


What's In A Winchester?

by Charlie_E_Winchester



Series: Stories From The Bunker [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Gen, destiel parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-28
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-10 09:02:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1157752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie_E_Winchester/pseuds/Charlie_E_Winchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been 20 years since Dean and Cas hung up their guns. But one night, Sam is woken by their two daughters, saying the words he's feared since they were born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A crash in the kitchen jerked Sam awake. He fumbled for the pistol hidden under his pillow, still trying to push sleep from his brain. Another crash in the kitchen and the sound of muffled voices brought him to. Swinging his legs out of bed, he clicked the safety off. He knew it was loaded; it was always loaded. His feet found the floor, and the cold hardwood pushed the last of his dreams away. Too bad, really. It had been a pleasant dream. He'd been hunting a Wendigo.

Shoulders back, arms stiff, with his pistol guiding his vision Sam crept out of the bedroom and down the hall. The crashing had stopped, but the muffled voices continued. He vaguely wondered why his dog hadn't barked. But, she'd never really been a good guard dog.

He rounded the corner into his kitchen, ready to fire at the slightest movement, but saw nothing. Just the fridge door open and his dog ripping into a pack of Sam's favourite turkey pepperoni. He lowered his gun and sighed, chiding his paranoia.

A voice behind him made him jump. He swung the pistol up and around, finger lightly tensed on the trigger. A flash of red hair ducked out of sight, and he felt his feet come out from under him. He gripped his pistol tighter, but a small set of hands nimbly switched the safety back on before closing around his own. Suddenly on his back, Sam felt two sets of knees press down on his arms and chest, and found himself looking up into the grinning faces of his two nieces.

"Hiya, Uncle Sammy." Charlie giggled, her face partially hidden by her long, curly red hair. "Can we let you up now?" She glanced at her sister Jo and nodded. Together they both stepped back and away. Jo quickly went over and retrieved the pepperoni from the dog, taking one for herself and tossing one to her sister, before putting the slightly chewed package back in the fridge.

Sam, his fatigue returning to him, glanced at the clock on the wall. He wondered what the hell his nieces were doing breaking into his house at 3am. He wondered _how_ his nieces had broken into his house. "Alright, now that I've nearly shot you, do you want to tell me what the hell is going on? Do you even know what time it is?"

Jo rolled her eyes and bent down to play with the dog. "Don't try to tell us it's past our bedtime. If we could be sleeping, we would be."

Charlie looked at Sam, clearly choosing her words carefully. Sam couldn't help but notice how much she looked his like brother; she mimicked his facial features, his expressions. But Charlie was still different than Dean. Sure, Charlie had heard of hell, even knew her Dad had been there. But she'd also grown up hearing about heaven - the one the angels couldn't go to - and that had made her different. Dean always talked about how proud he was that she was different.

Finally, Charlie sighed, putting her hands on her hips and mentally preparing for what was to come. She looked her Uncle dead in the eyes and, very slowly, said the words Sam had been dreading hearing.

"Dad's on a hunting trip. And he hasn't been home in a few days."

*

Jo had stopped playing with the dog. She sat crouched on the floor, staring up at her Uncle, willing herself to remain expressionless. They had known he wasn't going to react well to this. They'd debated coming here at all. But they needed supplies.

Sam was shocked. He felt dizzy, and Charlie reached out a strong hand to steady him. Jo rose quickly and the two of them guided their Uncle into a chair. Even sitting he still towered over them. Charlie put her hand up on his shoulder. "Uncle Sammy, you okay? I know this is a lot to take in."

Sam shook his head. "What do you mean he's on a hunting trip? Why didn't he call me? Who's watching the kids?" He seemed to have forgotten he was talking to his young nieces. All he was thinking of was his brother.

Jo shrugged. "We were. But we haven't heard from Dad or Poppa in almost a week. We left a few of the older ones in charge. They'll be there for a few more weeks anyway. The kids will be alright."

Sam shook his head, trying once again to clear the sleep from it. He Dean and Cas had done a great thing, turning that bunker into a home for hunters' kids. Dean always thought it was terrible kids grew up in the life. It had been Cas' idea. The bunker had more than enough space for everyone. The kids had homes when their parents were out hunting. Safe homes. None of the things their parents hunted ever knew the kids existed. When they were old enough, they could make a _choice_ about going into the life. Or they could walk away. Dean had helped a lot of kids walk away.

But now Dean and Cas were both gone. The girls were here, telling him they had both gone hunting. Sam couldn't remember the last time Dean hunted without him. He'd found peace, raising all those kids, having his own. He dreaded the thought of what had been important enough that Dean would risk leaving all that.  

Charlie was staring intensely at Sam. She knew he was processing what had been said to him. It was a lot to deal with. Ever since the girls had come along, Dad and Poppa had hung up their guns. Unless Uncle Sammy called. Then they went running. But even Uncle Sam had slowed down. He didn't hunt unless he needed to. And he was _here._ There had been a piece of Charlie hoping her fathers had just gone for a fun weekend with her Uncle. Maybe gank a ghost. Nothing to break a sweat over. Now she was starting to get more worried about the kind of trouble her fathers had got themselves into.

"So they didn't tell you they were leaving, did they?" she asked. Sam shook his head and she sighed. "We came here for supplies. Dad keeps all the good stuff at the bunker locked up too well to break into it. He learned his lesson after that one -" she jerked her head at Jo, " - decided she really wanted to try her hand at Dad's old sawed-off."

Jo huffed in her sister's direction. "Hey, Poppa always said the best way to figure out if something is truly locked up is to try to let a kid get into it." She ran her fingers through her blonde pixie cut and looked around. "So, come on Uncle Sam, don't hold out on us. Where's the arsenal?"

Sam looked back and forth between his nieces, a realization setting in. They hadn't come here looking for him to go find his brother. They probably hadn't expected to find him at all. They intended to go after their fathers on their own. Sam suddenly found himself on his feet.

Charlie and Jo both backed up, looking at each with knowing glances. Charlie shook her head. "We don't want you to come with us. We're not going on a hunt. We're going to find them and bring them home. Whatever they're hunting be damned."  Jo nodded silently in agreement.

Sam stared at the two girls, sizing them up. They looked like their fathers' daughters. They had the tough attitude of Dean, the determination to remain in constant fighting shape. But they also had the heart of Cas. They loved unconditionally. They saw a life outside of 'the life.' Sam couldn't help but marvel at the women they were becoming. Despite how often he saw them, he sometimes forgot how old they were getting. He didn't like to think about that; it reminded him of how old _he_ was getting.

Just last month, at the poker game Dean always hosted, Charlie - just barely 18 - had managed to drink a few of the hunters there under the table. Dean had clapped her on the back and bragged about it for weeks. Jo, though younger, was already starting to show Cas's proficiency for deception. She didn't have a tell the way Dean and Charlie did. Dean called her his secret weapon. Cas still argued Jo, at 16,  was still too young to be exposed to the kinds of things hunters said when drinking.

Sam shook his head. "I'm coming with you." He pointed his finger at Jo, knowing it was her lock-picking that had broken through his security. "You broke into _my_ house, remember?"

"For supplies, not a babysitter." Jo retorted.

Sam shrugged. "So don't think of me as a babysitter. Think of me as an extra hunter."

Charlie slammed her hand down on the table, making the other two jump. "This is NOT a hunting trip, damnit. This is us going and bringing them _home_. I don't care if they're hunting Lucifer himself, it is not worth breaking up this family over."

Sam put up his hands. "Fine, fine. No hunting. But you know we may need to kill whatever they were after to rescue them."

Charlie began pulling her hair up, out of her face and into her signature ponytail. "Look, if we find them first, we leave. No questions asked. None of this hunter bullshit about 'saving the world.' Our family has given enough." Securing her hair, she brought her hands back down to her hips. "Now let's stock up and get the hell out of here."

Sam nodded and gestured for the girls to follow him. At the end of the hall, he pulled back a hollow bookcase to reveal his weapons locker. As he turned the lights on, Jo's eyes lit up. "Wicked..." she whispered. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keeping secrets runs in the family. After barging in on their Uncle Sam, Charlie and Jo have to figure out a way to get him out of the car before they go to find their fathers.

Charlie and Jo finished loading the trunk of Charlie's green mustang and stared down at their arsenal. They had no idea what their fathers had left to hunt. It could be something easy - a ghost or a demon taking people for joy rides - or it could be something much worse. Something they felt only _they_ could handle.

So, the girls had grabbed it all; knives, silver bullets, axes, everything their Dad had taught them to use. Uncle Sam had even insisted on putting a bottle of holy oil in. Jo gave it a funny look as she padded a blanket around it. Poppa didn't like it when they wasted this stuff; it was so hard to come by these days.

Jo glanced around, making sure her Uncle was still in the house, and turned to her sister, a look of concern on her face. "We're not really bringing him with us, are we? I thought you said we were just coming here for supplies."

Charlie shook her head quickly, keeping her eyes down and sorting the silver bullets from the iron rounds. "Of course not. He wasn't even supposed to be here. Beside, you know how Uncle Sam is. He won't leave until that thing they left to hunt is dead. Poppa told me once that Uncle Sam doesn't like leaving loose ends. Don't worry; I have a plan. I'll take care of it."

Jo turned around slowly, leaning up against the back of the car. Of the two, Jo was the better sight. She could spot even the slight movements of branches from two miles away. With a silent understanding, she knew it was her job to keep an eye out for Sam. She talked casually over her shoulder, keeping a smile on her face in case her Uncle was watching them out the window. "You sure you don't want to kill the thing that kidnapped Dad and Poppa?" Her voice took on a playful, singsong tone. "Could be _fun_."

Charlie glanced up from rearranging the shotguns  and sighed. This fight had gone on and off the whole drive here. "No. You know what we talked about. We get them and _we leave_. You know what Dad said; if you start giving too much to this life it'll eat you alive. Besides, we don't even know they've been kidnapped. There are all sorts of things that could have happened to them."

Jo tilted her head up to the sky and sighed. "I know what Dad said, Charlie. You're not the only one who hung onto every word he said about hunting when we were kids. I'm just saying. If they both went after something, it had to be a big deal. It might be something that just _needs_ killing."

Charlie glared at her sister. "Nothing just _needs_ killing Jo. Nothing is worth tearing this family apart. Not after everything we've been through." She glanced once more down at the trunk, doing a mental inventory. before slamming it closed. "There are other hunters out there. We are not the only family capable of doing this." She turned to her sister, smiling and softening her voice. "Now go get Uncle Sam. We've got work to do."

Charlie watched as Jo returned with their Uncle, his giant golden retriever, Maddie, padding along beside him. She sighed, and shook her head. "Uh uh, no way. No dogs in the car." She shot Jo a look; she should have told their Uncle the dog would never be allowed to come.

"I'm not leaving my dog here alone, Charlie." He gave her a condescending look and Charlie stiffened.

Walking up to her Uncle, she looked up at him with a stern look. "You listen to me, Bullwinkle." She saw him flinch at the insult - she knew he would - and pressed her advantage. "Just because your glare can tower over me _does not mean_ you get to call the shots on this trip. I am not a child, and I am sure as hell not _your_ child. If you keep up that attitude, I'll drop your ass to the floor again."  With that, she turned back to the car and opened the backdoor, gesturing Maddie in. Sam made to get in the front and Charlie again turned towards him, her hand on the door. "Nope. You can get in the backseat with your dog. If she throws up, it's going to be on you." Sam gave her another look, but obliged. He muttered something about Charlie truly being Dean's kid as he slammed the door. Charlie saw Jo throw her a knowing look, and together they climbed into the car. It was going to be a long trip.

About an hour into driving, Sam finally spoke from the back seat. His voice betrayed the fact he was still clearly mad at Charlie. "So where are we starting? Do you have an idea of what direction they were heading in? Did they say anything before they left?"

Jo nodded. "Well, they didn't say much when they left. And Dad knows to turn the GPS in his phone off if he doesn't want to be found. But Poppa never remembers to. We were able to track them to a small town on the Michigan border before we lost the signal. Dad probably figured out Poppa hadn't turned his phone off and did it for him."

Sam looked out the window. "So why are we driving in the opposite direction?"

Jo glanced at Charlie before shrugging. "One more stop for supplies. Then we'll head out."

Sam shook his head and sat back, absently petting Maddie. He didn't ask any more questions, and eventually drifted off to sleep. Charlie continued to glance back at him, making sure he wasn't paying attention to where she was driving. The car was silent for over five hours. Jo didn't even reach to turn on the radio. She just sat quietly, her knees curled up to her chest, and stared at the road ahead. Charlie knew her sister well enough; Jo understood what Charlie was about to do.

She pulled up next to the bunker entrance silently. Charlie had parked the car here over a hundred times, but now it was different. Now, looking at her home looked painful. It wasn't home right now; it was missing their fathers. The place was filled with children but, to her and Jo, it was empty.

She looked straight ahead, her eyes a little glazed over, as she kept her fingers curled around her steering wheel. "Get out," she said to Sam. "Take the dog, and get out."

Anger flashed in Sam's eyes. "What do you mean 'get out'? I'm coming with you."

Charlie clicked the engine off and turned to face her Uncle. "No, you're not. You're going to go in there, watch over those kids until we come back, and make sure that they're safe."

"And who in the hell is going to keep you two safe?" he retorted. Maddie hard perked her ears up at the shouting, and Sam pet her until she calmed.

Charlie had pulled her pistol out. She knew her Uncle would recognize the elaborate decal on the barrel. It had been his brothers; it was a gift on her 18th birthday. When Sam finally looked up from the dog, she was pointing the gun directly at him, no compassion in her face. "Get the hell out of my car. And if you ever imply that we can't take of ourselves, I'll show you exactly what our Dad taught us." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jo reach for her knife. Charlie gave a quick shake of her head, and her sister retracted her hands.

Sam continued to  glare her down,  and Charlie slowly clicked the safety off, gesturing towards the door with her barrel. "I'm not kidding Uncle Sam. Those kids need someone to take care of them while we're gone."

Sam still didn't move. "Fine, you stay here, and _I'll_ go after Dean and Cas."

Jo laughed dryly. "Right, because that always turns out _so_ well." She, too, turned around to face their Uncle. "She's not kidding around Uncle Sam. She once shot one of the hunter kids in the knee because he tried to get fresh with her. When she pulls that gun out, everyone knows to run like hell."

Sam shook his head. "What happened to 'this family has given enough' Charlie? How is sending two teenage girls a better plan than sending a seasoned hunter?"

Charlie stared him dead in the eyes and said, very coldly, "Because your generation of hunters never knew when to walk away. Your generation of hunters wouldn't call for help. An entire group of children brought up on vengeance and bloodlust. Our generation," She gestured at her sister and the bunker beyond, "and all those kids in there? We stand for something different. We were raised with the idea that this life doesn't have to consume you. That you work with others. And you can know when to retreat. Living to fight another day is better than dying for the sake of it."

Sam shook his head. "Fine," he muttered, as he climbed out of the back seat. "I'll just find another car and follow."

Now the anger flashed in Jo's eyes. Almost instantly, it seemed, she too was outside the car. "The hell you will! Do you know how many kids are in that bunker right now? Do you not understand what it is our fathers do?"

Sam was silent, and leaned on the car, looking carefully at his niece.

Jo threw open the back door and let Maddie out. The golden retriever bounded towards the bunker entrance; she was here so often she knew exactly where to wait. She pawed at the front door until a child opened it, peeking their head out to see who had come.

Maddie barked happily and rushed in; she would be greeted warmly by the children, many who knew her quite well. The small boy who had opened the door called out to the three hunters still at the car.

"Hi Sam!" he waved, "Did you and Maddie come to babysit us? I don't like it when Josh gets left in charge."

Jo laughed and waved back. "Go back inside Chuck. He'll be there soon"

Chuck smiled widely and bounded back into the bunker, closing the door behind him.

Charlie leaned out the driver's side window and looked up at Sam. "Do you see why they need you here? Those idiots just opened up the supernatural equivalent of Fort Knox for a _dog."_

Sam nodded. He would stay. Not because the girls wanted him to, but to protect this beautiful place Dean had built. To protect the children that Dean and Cas believed could be sheltered from the life.

It was with reluctance that he watched Charlie and Jo drive away. He could only protect half of Dean's life, and the girls had decided for him which half it would be. They were much closer to hunters than perhaps even they realized.

Jo watched out the rear window until she saw their Uncle go into the bunker. She turned back around in her seat and look at her sister. Charlie's green eyes were locked on the road ahead of her.

"You didn't want me to tell him they're in Detroit, did you?"

Charlie shook her head. "No. No I didn't." 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they drive away from the bunker, Charlie reflects on how she and Jo were raised. The reader also finally gets a glimpse into what Dean and Castiel left their daughters to fight.

Jo finally fell asleep about an hour after they left the bunker. Charlie, too, was tired, but she knew her sister wasn't used to running on such little sleep. Now that she thought of it, she wasn't sure if either of them had slept much in the past few days. They weren't like other hunter's children. They had beds, and they ate home cooked food, and slept six to eight hours a night. They studied for school; Charlie was doing online courses for Kansas State, having completed her high school equivalency almost two years ago. Jo was due to finish hers next spring. Neither of them had decided on careers yet, but their fathers insisted they keep their options open.

Charlie glanced in her rear view mirror, for what felt like the thousandth time, to make sure their Uncle hadn't changed his mind and followed them. She knew from the stories her Dad had told - and enough nights sitting at a poker table with him - her Uncle was more stubborn than often given credit for. But the road behind them was clear; her Mustang seemed to be the only thing on the highway today.

She kept the radio off so Jo could sleep, and let her mind wander. She still couldn't believe she and Jo were on the road after their fathers. They had been raised to never believe they _had_ to choose this life. She knew their Dad had given up the notion that the world could only be saved by one person. Over the years, Poppa had helped teach him that everyone helped save the world. Despite it all, in the back of her mind, Charlie was surprised it had taken 18 years for it to happen. They were, after all, Winchesters. The cosmic children of a long line of hunters and people of letters.

Their fathers hung up their guns twenty years ago. Dad said the two of them decided they'd lost enough people, had made enough hard decisions, and it was time to let the new generation of hunters take over. For a while, Uncle Sam lived with them, in the bunker. They provided safe haven for travelling hunters, did research for those who called, and did something called 'man the phones,' which Charlie never really understood. Dad said, back in the day, hunters would pass as people of authority, of one group or another, and occasionally they needed another hunter to 'vouch' for them, acting as a superior. But that was a long time ago. It had been a long time since the FBI or CDC had existed. Whenever they asked about it, the girls were simply told that the world their parents had grown up in was a different place.

Neither of their fathers had ever explained how Charlie or Jo were born. Charlie often asked if they were adopted, but Papa would smile and hug her, and say something about how they were equal parts of each of them. When they were little, Jo would sometimes pretend she was an angel, and try to fly around the bedroom. She broke her arm once, doing that.

While Uncle Sam refused to have children, their Dad was convinced he could break the Winchester legacy. He believed his children could be different. Charlie and Jo learned to hunt by hunting deer and moose in the forest. They threw knives because it was fun. They never had the fear that their life depended on the accuracy of their skills. They just enjoyed spending time with their fathers.

Charlie, from a young age, had shown a proficiency with a handgun. Despite the fact that Jo had better eyesight, Charlie was the good shot. She could account for wind speed, target movement, everything. If she aimed a gun, she was going to hit something. As she got older, she  picked up an affinity for hand-to-hand combat. Never trained professionally, the guerrilla style Uncle  Sam showed her allowed Charlie to adapt and excel. Papa had worked hard to build her a small training centre in one of the basement rooms about eight years ago, and she often went there to release steam. Her punching bag got good use during her teenage years.

Jo, on the other hand, was fast. That was the only way Charlie had ever been able to describe it. Jo moved so fast, it was hard to comprehend sometimes. It made her dangerous in combat with a weapon; she could whip a knife or a sword around faster than anyone could adjust to. And she loved it; it was like dancing to her. Her blue eyes sparkled when she sparred; she came alive when she was moving that way.

Jo's phone rang, and she stirred from sleep. Charlie made to reach for it, but Jo waved her off, slowly sitting up in her seat and rubbing her eyes.

"Hello?" she answered. She  listened for a minute and rolled her eyes. "Hold on." She clicked the speakerphone on and held the phone between herself and her sister.

Glancing over at Charlie,  Jo tried not to laugh. "Uncle Sam wants to know where you put the dog shampoo he left there. Apparently one of the kids already decided Maddie would look better as a pride flag."

Charlie laughed loudly and slapped the steering wheel. "It should be in the cupboard with all the extra bathroom supplies. Connor should be able to show him." She paused, and smiled to herself. "Although, Maddie might make a great mascot for the next parade." The silence on the other end was enough for both girls to picture the face their Uncle was making. "Just something to think about."

Jo clicked the speakerphone off and held it back to her ear. "You get that? Good. Send everyone our love." She hung up quickly and frowned. "You think that actually happened or was he just trying to trace the call?"

Charlie shrugged. "Probably. You know what to do."

Jo reached into the glove compartment and pulled out one of their spare cell phones. She switched the SIM from her phone into the new one, and without a glance tossed the old phone out the window and into the grass along the side of the road. She nodded to Charlie, and Charlie took the next exit off the highway, beginning a different route to Detroit. They wouldn't be followed that easily; they were their fathers' daughters, after all.

Jo stretched out in her seat, clearly still tired. "We're doing an awful lot to keep Uncle Sam from following us. Don't you think it would have been easier if he came?"

Charlie shook her head. "Dad and Poppa didn't call Uncle Sam when they left. There must have been a reason for that." She glanced over at her sister. "We need to respect that."

Jo sighed and leaned her seat back so she could continue to sleep. "So what do you think we're going to find when we get there? Angel? Big bad demon from the sixth pit of hell? Leviathan?"

Charlie shook her head. "I honestly don't know Jo. I know it must have been something bad. Something that made them leave _us_ to go fight it."

*

Dean hurled himself forward, reacting on instinct as soon as he heard the whistling. Behind him, fire erupted as the projectile hit the ground. He rolled, pushed himself to his feet, and continued to run. The abandoned house he and Cas had been using as a base wasn't too far ahead, but his body wasn't responding the way it used to. He didn't like to think about it, but he was letting himself go in his retirement.

Just as he rounded the bend, the house in sight, he heard a cackling voice behind him. Dean didn't look over his shoulder; he simply fired vaguely at the noise behind him and kept running. _So much for retirement,_ he thought. Another snarl behind him . Dean swore; they needed a better plan to deal with this.

He stumbled through the wreckage of the destroyed picket fence and practically flung himself through the front door. Cas closed it quickly behind him and redid the salt line. Dean scrambled to his feet and checked the devils trap, making sure he hadn't smudged it. Satisfied with the protections, Dean collapsed to the ground, panting and shaking.

Cas glanced out the window, ensuring Dean hadn't been followed, before going to his side. He put his hand gently on Dean's shoulder and spoke softly to him, trying to calm the panic his husband was feeling. "It's alright love. You're safe; I'm right here."

"Cas," Dean finally found his voice. "We need a better plan than this. We need to close this damn thing before your buddies get here."

"Dean, I don't understand. If the angels come, they could help deal with all these demons," he gestured towards the door. "All these monsters wouldn't stand a chance against my brothers and sisters."

Dean looked up at Cas, panic written across his face. Cas sometimes forgot that Dean was only a few years away from his sixtieth birthday. His eyes, though, were much older than that. "We can't bring the angels here. We can't do it." He stood up, a little shaky, and leaned on Cas for support. "We have to find a way to close the gate ourselves." His knees gave way, and Cas gently helped him back to the floor. Dean shook his head and leaned against the wall. His voice was shaky. "Don't you see Cas. It's happening." He grasped at his hair as the realization came crashing down upon him. "He told me it would always happen. It would always end here."

Cas wrapped his arms around his husband's shoulders, worried about what he was stressing himself with. "Dean, what would always end here? I don't understand."

"Cas, just think about it. We're in Detroit." Dean gave a shudder and the fatigue in his body took him; he blacked out and fell to the floor


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Charlie and Jo near Detroit, Jo starts to worry what their fathers are really facing. Upon reaching the city, they find it's not deserted the way other metropolitan areas are, and Jo's worst fear is realized.

Dean woke up hours later, his throat dry and his body stiff. Opening his eyes, he recognized the terrible wallpaper of the master bedroom. The comforters were pulled up to his chin. He closed his eyes again and couldn't help but smile. The whole damn world was crashing down around them and Cas was still taking time to carefully tuck him into bed. Years of sharing a bed with a nightmare-plagued Dean had given Cas proficient skills in swaddling his husband, when necessary.

Dean, his mind slowly waking up, looked around the room for his husband. The faint whispering coming from the other room was unmistakable; Cas was praying. Dean got up quietly and started stretching out his aching joints. He'd give Cas a few more minutes. Perhaps what they needed right now was a little faith.

*

Jo watched her sister swim out into the centre of the lake and dive. Charlie had always loved the water; Papa said she had learned how to swim almost as soon as she learned to walk. When she was stressed, she swam. Or shot things. They'd been driving for hours, and as soon as Jo spotted the sparkling water, she'd pulled over. Without a word, she'd simply looked at her sister and nudged her head in the direction of the water. Charlie understood, and smiled appreciatively. It was the first time Jo had seen a genuine smile on Charlie's face since they'd left home.  

Charlie had jumped out of the car and literally stripped down as she walked to the water. She dove right in; no testing the water, no slowly  wading in. She just dove head first. When she came up for air, she gave a joyous shout before diving back down. _Well,_ Jo thought, _it's better than her whipping out her pistol to take practice shots while I'm driving._

Seeing her sister was content, and likely going to swim for a while, Jo leaned back on the hood of the Mustang and thought she'd take a nap in the afternoon sun. It was hard sleeping on the road; it just made a difference when your body was technically in constant motion. As soon as she closed her eyes, she drifted off.

In her dream, as she sometimes did, she heard the voice of her Papa. He was talking softly to God. She'd always found this reassuring. After all the things that had happened over the years, it comforted her to know Poppa still had his faith.

But this dream was different; Poppa sounded scared. He was asking God for help. _Real help_. Jo started listening; Poppa normally only asked for guidance, and sometimes a little patience to help deal with his houseful of children. But this was specific. Poppa was asking God to send help. Poppa was asking God why he'd let this happen, after so long.

Jo's eyes opened and she sat up on the hood of the car, pulling her knees to her chest. She shivered; the breeze was warm on her cheek, but her body was chilled. She felt small, like a little girl again. Her Poppa was scared. And here she and Charlie were, driving right into it. Part of her had really hoped their fathers had simply run off for a little trip together. That they had just forgotten to tell the girls. But it was a silly hope; Dad never _forgot_ to tell them anything.

Charlie shook the water out of her curly red hair as she walked back to Jo, retrieving her clothes along the way. She eyed Jo as she redressed. It was clear something was troubling her sister. "What's wrong? You look like you saw, well, a ghost."

Jo shook her head. She must have been asleep for longer than she thought; Charlie normally swam for an hour; it was the time she felt most peaceful. "Not now. I don't want to have a clichéd roadside bonding moment." She hopped off the hood of the car. "Let's just get on our way. How long until we're there?"

Charlie shrugged. "Well it was supposed to take half a day, but we've had to detour a bit, thanks to Uncle Sam calling and likely trying to track us. I'd say probably another two or three hours before we hit the outskirts." She gave her sister a once-over. "You should try and sleep a bit more before we get there. You look exhausted, and you never know what we're going to come up against. You're going to need your energy."

Jo nodded and climbed in the passenger seat. She didn't want to sleep; she didn't want to hear her Poppa again. But Charlie was right. She needed her strength, and she was exhausted. As soon as the car rumbled underneath them, Jo was again dead to the world. Charlie drove in silence, as she always did for her sister. But part of it was to calm her own mind. The closer they got to Detroit, the more nervous Charlie felt.

As she began to see the signs for Detroit approaching, Charlie couldn't help but grip the steering wheel more tightly. She had no idea what she was leading her and her sister into. Who were they kidding? They weren't hunters. Not like the kind of hunters their Dad or their Uncle used to be. They were raised to believe their own lives meant something. Their own lives were not to be thrown away by just blindly running in, guns blazing. But here she was, blind. Ready to run in. Guns in the trunk. She wondered if her Dad had ever felt like this.

The sun was starting to fall by the time they hit the outskirts. The roads were deserted. Not the way most metropolitan areas had become deserted over the years; truly deserted, no cars, no city dwellers in sight. Empty. A chill ran up Charlie's spine. She locked the doors and rolled up the windows. In the fading sunlight, she could see the faint glimmer of the devil's traps painted in clear ink on the glass.

As Jo stirred, a dark image blurred past her window. "Down!" Charlie hissed, turning her head to see if she could catch it's shape. Jo reacted instinctively and folded herself down, imperceptible to anyone looking into the car from outside.

"What was it?" she whispered, still careful to keep her body out of sight.

Charlie shook her head and indicated Jo could come up. "Dog. A big one, but it looked like it was only a dog."

Jo breathed a sigh of relief as she readjusted herself in the car. "So, do we know where there are _in_ Detroit? Or are we just going to drive around blindly?"

Charlie shook her head, her eyes focused intently on the road. Her knuckles had almost gone white from gripping the steering wheel."No, we're going to follow the strange silence until we find the noise. If we know our fathers, they'll be right in the thick of it."

Jo nodded and began searching. Even as twilight hit, her eyesight was much better than Charlie's. After another ten minutes of driving deeper into the city, Jo tensed. There had been a distinct flicker in the distance. As she focused her concentration, sure enough, she saw them. "Shit." she muttered. It was only getting darker, but Jo knew the way a monster walked, with no regard for the body it was inhabiting.

Charlie whipped her head to the direction Jo was looking. "What? I don't see anything."

"I know you don't, but trust me. There's demons out there. And they do not look happy to see us. I suggest you drive faster." She paused, watching as the pack of demon's she'd spotted began to chase towards the car. "Um, yeah, a _lot_ faster Charlie. Now. Drive!" Jo was starting to panic; these demons moved faster than any she'd ever seen.

Charlie floored the gas, swerving around the abandoned cars that had begun to appear as they neared the centre of the city. She trusted Jo's eyesight; she still couldn't see the hoard approaching, but drove like all of hell was behind her.

Jo watched as the swarm of demons chased their taillights; they hurdled over cars and flung their bodies high over wreckage piles, landing hard on the ground before springing up to give chase again. "Charlie, you're going to have to get off this road. They're coming too fast; it's like giving them a fucking runway to come down."

Without responding, Charlie spotted the nearest exit - it was on the other side of the highway. "Screw it," she muttered, and spun the wheel to whip the car around. Driving through one of the many damaged gaps in the meridian, she pushed the car back to speed, barrelling up the exit ramp and into a residential area.

The townhouses looked just as abandoned as the highway had. Some of the windows were boarded up, others simply had doors left wide open. The roads were clearer than the highway had been, but there was still not another car in sight. Charlie dimmed the lights; she didn't need their position to be given away simply because they were driving the only functional car in the city.

Jo took off her seat belt so she could turn around fully, crouching on the seat as she scanned the roads behind them. She waved her sister off as she did it. "I'll be fine. I need to watch for them. Just find us a safe place. Somewhere we can hide the car."

Charlie took a corner slowly, scanning the houses as they passed. She was disappointed to see they were all too ramshackle to be able to properly protect the girls. They both knew better than to assume demons were the only things wanting to attack them in this city.

With her eyes still mostly on the houses, Charlie reflexively turned another corner; she knew how not to be followed. As she turned her eyes back to the road, a dark figure rose in front of the car, gun in hand. Charlie's instincts and training took over. She slammed on her breaks, simultaneously ducking down to retrieve her own gun from underneath the dash. Just as her fingers clasped around the mother-of-pearl handle, Jo screamed.

Charlie's head whipped to the side, and she couldn't see her sister. Jo wasn't in the car. Glancing up, she saw the hole in the windshield. Jo's seatbelt hadn't been on; she'd gone flying out when Charlie had slammed on the breaks.

Kicking her door open, Charlie burst out, gun cocked and desperately scanned for her sister. Jo was laying on the cement, the dark figure bent over her. The head turned to her, and Charlie felt a wave of relief as she looked into the bright green eyes of her Dad.

"Charlie, what the hell?!"

Charlie realized she still had her gun raised. At least one instinct had been able to sustain the relief she'd felt. Gun still pointed, she reached back into the car, grabbing the flask she stashed in the driver's side door. She tossed it to her Dad. "You know the drill. Swig." She didn't lower the gun. She didn't smile. She wouldn't allow herself to be vulnerable until she knew it was him.

Charlie could see Jo was now sitting up, another dark figure bent near her, appearing to stroke her hair. She brought her eyes back to what she hoped was her father and locked her gaze. "I'm not screwing around. You drink it, or I put a bullet in your knee." Charlie's voice was steady, and calmer than she felt; she desperately wanted to rush to her sister. As she nodded to the flask, she adjusted her aim. "Drink, or kneecap. Your choice."

She could have sworn a small smile flitted across her father's face. He opened the flask and took a deep drink. Wiping his mouth, he put Charlie's flask down and retrieved his own.

As she caught it, Charlie nodded. Without taking her eyes off her Dad, she drank deeply. True to form, this wasn't just water blessed by a priest; her Dad was fond of holy water infused whiskey.  Wiping her mouth, Charlie smiled.

"Satisfied?" she asked, "I can handle the holy water _and_ the whiskey."

Dean smiled. "That's my girl." He tucked his gun away and walked toward her, embracing Charlie in a tight hug.

As they swapped flasks back, Charlie nodded towards where Jo was sitting. She'd pulled herself up completely and was talking quietly to the second dark figure. "Is she okay?" The dark figure turned his head, and Charlie's heart melted as she saw the soft smile of her Poppa.

Dean nodded and spoke quietly. "It looked like it was just a few scratches. Your sister's a tough cookie; she'll be fine." He turned to face her again. "Listen, we're camped out in the house just up the street. You go hide the car in the carport over there," he gestured to one of the most run down houses. "The latch for the garage door just opens. But they'll never go looking for the cars in such an obvious place. When you're done, you'll be able to see the sign on the top right window. Come back to us as fast as you can sweetie." He kissed her on top of the head and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

Charlie smiled softly at the affection, nodded, and turned to go back to the car. Her father called out to her again, and she turned her head back to him.

"Oh, and Charlie," he paused, and tried to give her his best Dad voice, "Don't scratch my car."

Charlie couldn't help but laugh. They were in the middle of god-knows what, but Dad was still worried about his precious _Impala._ She had a theory that the Impala had come back to life more times than her Dad had.

As Charlie drove off, Dean walked back to Jo and Cas. Jo was now standing. Her legs were a little shaky, but she appeared to be otherwise uninjured. Dean was about to ask her what the hell was going on, and why she and Charlie were even here, but Cas held up his hand. Dean nodded and swallowed his words. Instead, he stooped down, took Jo's shoulder over his, and began to help his daughter to the house.

As they walked, Jo turned her head to Cas. "Poppa," she whispered. "Was what you prayed really true? Is there really a hell's gate open here?"

Cas looked down at his daughter, trying to hide his pity. He had always thought Jo's gift was a result of proximity to him. His heart broke, knowing that she'd heard how honest he'd been with God. His daughter should not have to know these things. "Oh sweetie."

Jo nodded, understanding. "Okay." She turned to her other father, her determined look showing her Winchester heritage. "So what do we do?" 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After reuniting with their fathers, Charlie and Jo discover exactly what has happened in Detroit.

Charlie parked the car in the dark garage and brushed her hair back. She was happy they'd found their fathers. She was happy they were alive. But she and Jo were now also knee-deep in whatever shit their parents had mixed themselves up in. She tightened her grip on her steering wheel and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. Her mind felt like it was running wild with possibilities.

 _You are a Winchester,_ she told herself. _Your family has paid its dues; you do not owe the world anything. You just need to convince your fathers to leave and someone else can handle whatever is happening here._

Charlie knew it wasn't going to be that easy. She and Jo had promised they wouldn't just go follow in their Dad's footsteps; they weren't just going to go off and blindly hunt whatever had consumed their fathers. While Dad had raised them to believe it was not their duty to save the world, Charlie suspected he always had a hard time practicing what he preached.

Getting out of the car, she locked the door and closed it quietly. The area they'd hidden in appeared to be deserted, but she knew to be careful. Charlie unlocked the trunk and loaded her duffel bag with all the weapons she could carry. Slinging it over her shoulder, she carefully lowered the hood and listened as it clicked shut. She did the same with the garage door, carefully hiding hers and her Dad's car behind the broken door.

With her pistol resting loosely in her hand, Charlie began to take the slow walk up the street, glancing in each of the windows as she went. Over the years, hunters had developed a system of symbols to talk to each other, without the monsters or angels being able to decipher them. It was an easy way to identify safe houses, especially in the deserted metropolitan areas. She saw a lot of faded vigils as she walked; hunters had come and gone from this place for a long time.

When the government had been overthrown, and the militia took over, the biggest cities suffered the most. Detroit was one of the first to be almost officially abandoned. People fled to the small towns; the areas that were generally left to their own devices. The largest cities Charlie had ever been in were those occupied by a college or university. Students were never seen as a big threat to the new regime, so long as they graduated and left when they were done their degrees.

Her fathers had explained the regime change had not really altered anything else; money still existed; all the major services the government used to provide the military now funded. Papa said people were just scared to be seen living in such large communities. Dad said they were smart.

And hunters, once unsung heroes, had slowly come out of hiding. They no longer kept their services quiet and under the radar; they were often paid for them. Being a hunter was a respected profession, if not still a deadly one. They were pillars in their communities; keeping evil out of the small towns, protecting the families that had fled to the countryside.

Charlie sometimes wondered about what life had been like for those hunters, when she saw those faded, early symbols. Some were almost as old as she was. But, now wasn't the time for reminiscing.

As she continued to walk, she kept her eyes open for the fresh symbol; the one her Dad would have painted. Turning her head from left to right as she walked, she gripped her pistol tightly. She could hear it; someone was trying to sneak up on her.

Just as she felt the breath reach her neck, Charlie whipped her body around, smashing the barrel against her attackers temple. She saw her attacker fall, and saw the teeth flash. Without hesitation, Charlie pressed her foot on the vampire's chest, pinning her to the cement. She reached into her jacket and pulled her knife out of its holster. Dropping down, Charlie pressed her knees into the vampire's shoulders, her full weight now holding it down. It squirmed beneath her, but Charlie was strong.

Charlie did her best to speak calmly; her heart was beating rapidly. "Tell me what the hell you're doing here."

The vampire cursed at her. "Go fuck yourself."

Charlie sighed, and swung her knife down to slice off one of the vampire's hands. For good measure, she brought the end of the handle down across the vampire's face. "Stop screaming, or you'll wake the neighbours. Now, tell me what you're doing here. A vampire doesn't typically share territory with demons."

 "I'll work alongside anyone I feel like, kid." The vampire tried to spit at her and Charlie slammed her hand down on its mouth. She bashed the vampire's temple with the handle of her knife, for good measure.

"Very funny shithead." Charlie brought the blade up to the vampire's cheek, carefully pressing down to only release a small amount of blood. "You don't know what I am, do you?" She dragged her knife slowly across the vampire's face, and whispered with a smile, "I'm a Winchester." She saw the flash of fear in the vampire's eyes.

Lowering her knife onto the elbow of the injured arm, Charlie began to press down with the blade. "So, you were going to tell me? Or should I just keep taking pieces?"

The vampire squirmed under the pressure of Charlie's knees, but finally accepted defeat and lay still. Charlie carefully lifted her hand off its mouth so it could speak. "The demons offered to lead us out of purgatory if we followed their command when we all got topside."

Charlie attempted to hide her confusion. "So there's a gate into purgatory here?"

The vampire laughed, before Charlie hit it across the head again. "No, you idiotic child. The demons found the gate that links purgatory and hell. They led us all out through a hell gate. Our job was to hold the fort down here, in case any hunters came by."

Charlie had heard enough. She sliced the vamps head off without a second glance. Getting up, she kicked the skull away in anger. A hell gate. _A fucking hell gate._ That's what her fathers had come down here for.

She looked up the street and saw her Dad waving to her. She didn't know how long he'd been watching her interrogate the vampire. Judging from his look, long enough. Picking up her bag, she walked down the street towards him, brooding over the onslaught of information.

Dean put a hand on Charlie's back and steered her into the house as quickly as possible. "You're lucky it was just one," he muttered, careful to keep his voice down so the other two couldn't hear them.

Charlie whirled on him, still brandishing her knife. "And you're lucky I don't knock you both out and just throw you in the back of my damn car right now. A _fucking hell gate,_ Dad?"

Dean gestured to the living room, his head down. "Let's all just sit down and talk about this like a family, okay?"

Charlie stormed off into the other room. She plopped down on the couch next to her sister, trying to make eye contact with her. But Jo was staring down between her knees, deep in thought.

Their fathers sat opposite them. Dean looked at Cas, a sadness in his eyes. Cas gripped his hand, squeezed, and did his best to lend his strength to his husband. Finally, Dean turned to his daughters.

"Alright, let's start with the basics. Yes, there is a hell gate here. Yes, we did come here to try and close it." He held up his hand as Charlie began to open her mouth. "And you, young lady, will keep your mouth shut until I am finished, are we clear?"

Charlie scowled, her eyes narrowing, but nodded nonetheless.

Dean sighed deeply, and continued. "We heard through the grapevine that there had been things going on in Detroit - and some of the adjoining cities - for a while. We didn't think much of the chatter; things happen everywhere, and hunters eventually make their way along to take care of it." He stopped, and sighed deeply again.

Cas, putting his other hand on top of his husband's, took over. "Then we started hearing chatter that all the hunters who were going deeper into Detroit weren't coming out. There was none of the usual  attempts to lure their families in, or other hunters. They just seemed to disappear. We started to get suspicious, and I asked some old friends of mine if they knew of anything big about to happen."

Dean seemed to have found his voice again. He patted Cas' hand, and stood up to pace the room. "What he means is, he asked the few angels who still talk to us. And the news wasn't good; the angels had heard things too. They were starting to amass again. This is something that hasn't happened in close to twenty years. We started to put the pieces together, and decided to head down here ourselves."

Charlie couldn't help it. She stood up to be as close to eye-level with her father as possible. "But why the secrecy? Why couldn't you tell us where you were going? If it seemed to be so dangerous, why the hell didn't you bring Uncle Sam?"

Dean glared at his daughter, and attempted to keep his voice level. "Because, Charlie, we didn't _want_ you to follow us. If our suspicions were correct - and they were - this was the last place either of us wanted our daughters to be."

Jo put her hand on her sister's arm, and gently tugged Charlie back to the couch. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't ask Uncle Sam to come." She finally turned to look at her sister, and Charlie saw Jo had been crying. "We know why we didn't let him follow us, but if you thought it was so dangerous, why not have all the help you could get?"

Dean's anger began to boil over. His hands were now waving madly as he talked. "Because this is Detroit, damnit. I know what happens here. I know what was always supposed to happen here. And I swore to myself I would never let Sam come to this godforsaken place. "

Charlie's jaw dropped. She'd never thought of making that connection. She'd never considered Detroit had still been a battle ground, yet to be fought. Finally, she managed to whisper, "So, the angels?"

Cas nodded. "Apparently the threat of the apocalypse is enough to band together my brothers and sisters."

Jo nodded. "And why aren't they here?"

"Because," Dean spat, "Just because they're banding together doesn't mean it's for us. Those bastards never stopped wanting their damn apocalypse. They never stopped waiting for an opportunity to wipe the slate of humanity clean." He finally sat down again, and Cas again rested his hand on Dean's clenched fist. "And they are _not_ invited to this party."

Jo spoke quietly, careful not to look at her sister. "So, again, I ask.  What do we do?"

Charlie looked shocked. "What do we do? What do you mean what do we do? We fucking leave! The last thing an apocalypse needs is a bunch of Winchesters near it!"

Dean shook his head. "We can't leave Charlie. They've been planning this for over a year. They've been raiding old warehouses, stockpiling missiles, RPGs, anything they can get their hands on."

Charlie stood up again, shouting at her father. "What the fuck do you mean, we 'can't leave?' Are you so quick to forget _everything_ you raised us to believe in? They've been amassing an army, and we're supposed to face off against them - just the four of us - for the sheer fact that we're here?"

"Charlie.." Cas began. His husband cut him off. This time, Dean didn't stand up. His voice was calm.

"No, Charlie, I didn't forget what we raised you to believe. I raised you to believe you have a choice. We decided to come here, after a lot of thought - "

"And no help." Charlie interjected.

"- but it was _our choice_."

Charlie whipped her phone out. "Do you want to call Uncle Sam and tell him that then? Do you want to tell him why the hell you decided to come out here - just the two of you - when you literally have an army of hunters at your disposal?"

"Charlie, you need to listen." Cas rose too, staring down at his daughter. "You must know we can't just demand every hunter we know drop the important work they are doing to come and fight something we didn't even understand. We had no idea the extent of what was happening here until we were already here. Those hunters have families to look after."

"And what about us?!" Charlie screamed. "You left us!" Tears began to well pour down her cheeks, and her grip on her phone tightened. "All those hunters have families to look after, but we're _Winchesters_ , right? So our family doesn't matter. All those times you told us that we were more important, that _we_ -" she gestured at Jo, "we meant more than what destiny expected of the Winchesters, it was all just a load of crap?" 

Dean's heart broke at the look of his daughter crying. His anger vanished, and he crossed the room quickly to embrace her. Her whole body shook with sobs, and he just held her tighter, stroking her long curly red hair. "Charlie, sweetie," he whispered, "you and your sister mean more to me than anything. We wanted to come home as soon as we got here. We did. We just couldn't risk them following us back to you."

He pulled her away to look into her eyes. "My beautiful girl, it had nothing to do with this being more important. It had everything to do with you being _too important_. We couldn't risk putting you in danger like that." He pulled her back in and kissed the top of her head, as Charlie's sobs slowly began to fade. "Oh Charlie," he whispered, as he continued to stroke her hair. "You two mean more to us than anything else in this world."

Cas stood up, his eyes on the boarded up windows. "Dean," he began, his voice low. "Dean you need to be ready now."

Dean glanced up at his husband, gesturing at Charlie and trying to convey the fact that he was in the middle of calming their daughter down. But the look in Cas' eyes made him stop. Cas signaled towards the front door, and Dean bent his head down towards Charlie's ear.

"Charlie, sweetie, I need you to be okay right now. Do you know why?" He felt her head nod slowly against his. "Good. It looks like they managed to follow us, and I'm guessing that door is about to be blown open. You get your bag, you get your sister, and you get back to the cars."

Charlie pulled away from her father and wiped her eyes. Pulling her pistol out, she glanced at her Poppa. "How many?"

"At least ten. It's hard to tell; the presences are so confusing."

Charlie shook her head. "It's because it's probably not just demons. That vamp I killed told me the demons raided purgatory before coming topside. They've probably got an army of everything imaginable at their disposal."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well isn't that just awesome."

Jo reached into Charlie's bag and pulled out one of the machetes. "Decapitation party it is." Charlie glanced at her sister; she knew Jo well enough to know she planned to see this fight out.

Dean gripped his own machete tightly, a knot forming in his stomach. "Alright girls, make your fathers proud."

Charlie nodded. After glancing a confirmation at the rest of her family, she aimed carefully, and fired a hole in the door directly through the sigil; in an instant the door burst open and creatures began to sweep into the house.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Winchester reunion only means one thing. Bloodshed.

The door, and frame, crumbled under the pressure of monsters flooding through the opening. Each Winchester watched carefully, and took to their specialty. Charlie stayed back, firing shots through the heart of everything that came through. A few shook and continued forward, and some dropped to the floor. "We've got werewolves in the pack!" she shouted to the others.

Jo and Dean held the bottleneck at either side of the entry. With knives in hand, they both seemed to almost dance through the waves of intruders, slicing heads with every swing. Jo's blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she whipped her knife through the air. Just as she turned to swing down upon another monster, she saw the flash of black eyes. "Coming to you Poppa," she shouted, as she kicked the demon hard in the stomach and sent it flying towards Cas.  

Cas' hand gripped the forehead of the demon, a bright light blinded the room. Charlie ducked behind the couch, unable to see or defend herself. When the light was gone, and she re-emerged, the demon's host was crumbled on the ground.

Bringing her gun back up, Charlie caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Spinning towards the kitchen, she saw a monster had managed to sneak around the fray. Without blinking, Charlie shot it directly between the eyes. The demon's eyes flashed black, and it shook it's head. "Stupid kid, that tickled." The demon licked his lips and began to advance towards Charlie again.  

"Knife!" Charlie yelled, and from across the room Dean tossed their precious blade. She turned, caught the blade between two fingers, and whipped around to throw it into the heart of the demon. His body flashed, as the monster soul died, and collapsed to the ground. As Charlie walked over to retrieve the knife, she spat on the face of her dead opponent. "I am _not_ a kid."

She heard her Dad call her name, and turned to see him struggling with yet another demon. They were locked in blows. Across the room, Jo cried out in pain, and Dean's head whipped towards the sound of his daughter's cry. Taking his advantage, the demon managed to get a chokehold around Dean.

Watching from across the room, Charlie took careful aim.  She flung the knife across the room, lodging it in the demon's skull. Its soul flashed out, and the body crumpled against the wall.  Dean bent over, taking deep breaths, before standing up to wink across the room at his daughter. "Nice shot, kiddo."

Jo, having just sliced the head off the last of the intruders, fell against the wall, panting. "Hey now, don't I get any credit?"

Cas crossed the room towards her, and hugged her. "Of course sweetie. You were amazing, as you always are." Charlie saw the small flash of blue light, as Cas allowed his healing vibes to wash over his youngest daughter. He moved to Charlie next but she waved him away.

"Save your strength Poppa. I'm okay."

Dean looked over the mess of bodies. "So much for this safe house." He turned to his daughters. "You two need to leave, before anyone finds out you're here."

Jo shook her head. "I'm not leaving. You two need help."

Charlie gestured towards her sister. "She's not leaving because she's an idiot." She then pointed at her parents. "I'm not leaving until I have all three of you on the road with me. Whether or not that's tied up in my trunk is entirely up to you."

"Charlie, this is not the time to attempt to parent your parents." Dean frowned at her, and then turned to her sister. "And Jo, what in the hell makes you think we're going to let you help?"

Jo twirled her knife in her hand. "Oh, I'm sorry. Did I not just help you take out - " she gestured, with the knife, at the floor around them "- all these demons? Or was I standing in the corner like a child?"

Dean raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment. His daughters had certainly shown they  had the Winchester gene.

Cas, who had moved to the window to keep watch, turned his head back towards his daughters. "We can have this fight later. Right now, we need to hide the girls."

Dean turned towards his husband and gestured to the mess around them. "Cas, I think hiding them is a little late. And Jo's right, it's not like they can't hold their own here."

Jo's eyes suddenly widened in terror, and she franticly looked at her Poppa. "They're coming," she rasped. Cas nodded at her, and Jo quickly grabbed Charlie and pulled her along, running through the door under the stairs and down into the basement.

Charlie pulled her arm out of her sister's grip as soon as they were down the stairs. "Jo, what the hell?"

Jo shook her head and put her finger to her lips, gesturing above them. She flapped her hands beside her, stupidly, doing her best to indicate to her sister that the angels had not ignored their little demon slaughter. They were coming.

Upstairs, Cas and Dean quickly did their best to hide any hints their daughters had been there. They stashed the weapons bag under a couch, and Dean picked up Charlie's cell phone from the rubble. Just as he slid it into his pocket, he heard the distinct sound of the angels touching down on the front lawn. He and Cas watched from the window as dozens dropped to the grass in bright blasts of blue light, each slowly standing and straightening themselves out. Dean couldn't help but imagine that as they stood, each angel was ruffling out their feathers, preening for the others around them.

Cas shook his head. "This is not good Dean. This is an army."

"I told you there was a reason we weren't going to call them. They haven't come to help us." Dean grasped his husband's hand tightly, speaking through gritted teeth. "Whatever we do, we do not let them find our girls." Cas nodded in agreement.

The first of the angels stepped through what was the front door, stepping over the bodies of the fallen demons as if they weren't even there. As one of the demons squished under her shoe, she looked down with disdain. Shaking the blood off her shoes, she looked back at the Winchesters. "Been busy, boys?"

Dean shrugged. "No more than usual."

Charlie watched through the crack in the door, seeing the angel clench and unclench her fists. She felt Jo tugging on her shoulder, and tried to shove her off. She may have to hide in this basement, but that didn't mean she couldn't still keep an eye on her fathers. Jo tugged on Charlie's arm again, and Charlie turned to her. Jo was gesturing towards the door with a bloody finger, and Charlie's eyes widened in shock. She backed away, and watched as Jo drew a warding sigil on the door with her own blood, dipping into the wound on her arm when she needed more.

Charlie backed down the stairs and looked around. While she'd been watching the angels come into the house, Jo had been busy. Sigils were painted on every wall. She ripped a shred of fabric from her shirt and moved to tie it around Jo's arm.

"Thanks," Jo muttered. "I shouldn't have left our bag upstairs. The spray cans would have been much easier."

Charlie stifled a laugh. "Yeah, you're such a screw up Jo. Jeez."

Jo massaged her arm. Charlie always tied those damn things so tight. "We need to call Uncle Sam."

Charlie stared at her sister. "I'm sorry, did you bleed more than I thought you did? I thought you just said we needed to call Uncle Sam. Which is, you know, the exact opposite of what our fathers just told us to do."

Jo shook her head. "Not for that Charlie. There's shifters here. And now the angels have arrived. You don't think, at some point, someone is going to go after Uncle Sam themselves? If both these sides want the apocalypse, they're going to try and find a way to get him here."

Charlie sighed, but nodded. "Alright, you're right." She went to reach for her phone and her face fell. "Shit."

Jo glanced up at the door into the basement. The voices upstairs were starting to get louder. "It's up there, isn't it?" Charlie nodded again. "Well, this is going to be a bitch. Mine's up there too. Fell out while I was chopping heads off."

Both girls crept back to the top of the stairs and listened. They heard the thuds of bodies hitting the floor, and flashes which could only be dying angels. Charlie shoved Jo behind her, and put her eye to the crack in the door.

The female angel was laying on the ground, clearly dead. Their fathers were gone,  as were the other angels. Charlie slowly pushed the door open and crept out, Jo following closely behind her.

"Where do you think they went?" Jo asked.

Charlie shrugged. "Wherever they think their 'final showdown' has to be, most likely. My guess is they plan on using Dad and Poppa as bait for Uncle Sam."

Jo pulled the bag out from under the couch and retrieved her phone. She tossed it to Charlie. "You call him. If anyone is going to convince him not to come, it's going to be you." She glanced at the mess around them. "We can't stay here. I'm going to go look upstairs and see if they left anything to indicate where this whole thing is supposed to go down."

Charlie started dialing the number for the bunker, watching outside as her sister went up the stairs. "Be careful Jo," she shouted up the stairs. "We've only got so long before a second wave comes looking."

The bunker phone had a busy signal. "Shit." Charlie muttered. She started dialing her Uncle's emergency line. She saw lights flickering up the street. "Time's up Jo." she shouted up the stairs, as she listened to her Uncle's phone finally go to voicemail. "Fuck!" she shouted, hanging up the phone and reloading her gun. She picked up the weapons bag and ran up the stairs to get Jo, redialing the phone as she went. "Son of a bitch, Uncle Sam," she muttered, "pick up your damn phone." 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Dean and Cas captured, their daughters must act quickly to prevent the worst scenario from playing out. They must keep Sam from coming to Detroit.

Dean struggled against the angels holding his arms. He snarled at the one to his left. "Let go of me, you son of a bitch." The angel responded by punching him across the face.

"Shut up Dean. You really don't need to make this much noise."

Dean spat blood on the ground. "I'll make all the damn noise I want. I hope those demon bastards hear me, and come raining down on you!" He glanced at Cas, and saw him muttering at the ground. Dean struggled further against the angels, and raised his voice even more. "Come on you bitches, can't even bring yourself to fight me like real angels!"

Cas watched out of the corner of his eye as his husband continued to make as much noise as possible. He wasn't trying to attract any demons' attention. He was trying to mask Cas' muttering under his breath.

Cas continued  to pray. He prayed to God, to help his girls. He prayed God would show them where their fathers were being taken. He prayed for God to protect his daughters.

*

Charlie balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder, one hand aiming her gun towards the front door, the other reaching behind her for the doorknob into the upstairs bedroom. The ringing on the other line seemed to go on forever. Charlie silently feared she was too late, and their Uncle had already rushed out the bunker to the aid of his family.

As her hand finally found the doorknob behind her, and the flickering lights outside intensified, her Uncle Sam finally picked up the phone.

"Dean?" He sounded out of breath. She likely caught him just before he raced out of the bunker.

Opening the door behind her, Charlie holstered her gun and picked up the phone with her free hand. "Nope. Second best though." She looked around the room. Their parents had certainly been paranoid; angel warding sigils, and demon traps were drawn on every wall. Closing the door quietly behind her, Charlie saw Jo had made use of their spray cans, and repainted the devils trap around the door frame.

"Listen Uncle Sam," Charlie began, gesturing to Jo that the demons were likely just outside. "I don't know who just called you, but it wasn't Dad."

"What are you talking about, Charlie? He _just_ called me, and told me to get to Detroit."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Uncle Sam, think about it. When did Dad ever call you for help? I don't know who called you. An angel, a shifter, whatever. But it wasn't Dad. It was someone trying to get you here."

"Charlie, that doesn't make any sense." He sounded angry. He really didn't like being left at home.

"it doesn't make any sense? Are you kidding me?" Charlie was shouting into the phone, and Jo threw her a nasty look, gesturing at the door. They could hear the demons picking through the rubble downstairs. Charlie tried to control her anger as she hissed into the phone. "Are you so god damn pretentious that you don't even remember _you_ are the one they always wanted? And _you_ were the one who was the key to the apocalypse-that-never-was?"

"Charlie," Uncle Sam was using his 'parenting' voice, which only succeeded in pissing Charlie off more. "I think I would be able to tell my brother from a shifter or an angel."

"Really? You really think that Dad and Poppa would go through all the trouble of making sure none of us knew where the hell they were going, and then just call you out of the blue to say 'Hey, we're in Detroit. Come join us'?"  She heard her Uncle pause, and Charlie knew she was starting to get through to him. She pressed her advantage. "There are angels here, and demons. All kinds of monsters. They are trying to start something. Something they need you to complete. If you really want to help Dad, you need to stay the hell away from here."

"Charlie, I can help." Her Uncle sounded hurt. Like he was being treated like an unruly child that wasn't allowed to join in the big kid games.

"No, you can't. The only thing you're going to do is get us all killed. What you need to do is keep our home safe. Remember, those kids need a real adult around. They need someone to protect them."

Charlie heard the demons downstairs. They were getting agitated, digging through the rubble and finding nothing but dead brethren and a dead angel. "Listen Uncle Sam, I am here to do what I promised to do. I am going to bring our fathers home." And with that, she hung up, before he could argue with her. She looked to Jo and nodded; she knew she had succeeded in convincing Uncle Sammy to stay away.

As Charlie went to the door to listen more carefully at the demons downstairs, Jo knelt to the floor. She could hear faint whispers, that sounded like Poppa's voice. It was like when she heard him praying. But she'd never heard him when she was awake before. She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. He was so hard to hear. But as she tried to block everything else out, she started to be able to pull out full words. Her Poppa was praying to God, but he was also leaving Jo a message. He was telling her where they were being taken.

Jo opened her eyes and looked at Charlie. Charlie's hair had fallen out, and her wild curls hung around her face. "Charlie," her voice barely a whisper. "I know where we need to go."

Charlie looked back at her sister. Jo's eyes were intense. She sighed. "I'm not going to enjoy the answer to the 'where' question, am I?"

Jo shook her head and stood up. She brushed the dirt off herself, and pulled out her knife. "They're taking them to GM Tower."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Lovely. That's right downtown. Likely in the middle of all this fuckery." She sighed, loudly, and pulled out her gun. "Ready to get out of this house?" Bracing herself, Charlie looked from her sister to the door separating them from the hoard of demons below.

Jo cleared her throat and tapped her sister on the shoulder. "You know, we could just go out that way." She jerked her head to the window behind them. A large elm tree was just outside. It would be easy enough to simply climb out without anyone knowing they were ever there. Jo picked up their weapons bag and slung it over her shoulder. "Yes?"

Charlie shrugged. She supposed not everything today had to be a fight for their lives. Holstering her gun, she followed her sister out the window quietly. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Escaping a house filled with demons, Charlie and Jo race towards downtown Detroit, desperate to save their fathers.

They each dropped to the ground gracefully and silently. First Jo, then Charlie. Jo dropped the weapons bag, and looked around them as she stood up, trying to get her bearings. Charlie, however, quickly picked the bag up and grabbed her sister under the arm, pulling her down the road. They had very little time before they were seen, and Charlie wanted to be as close to the cars as possible when that happened.

"Keep your eyes open," Charlie muttered, as they sprinted down the road. It was only a short jog to the garage where they'd hidden the cars.  She kept her pistol loose in her hands, ready to fire at the slightest moment. But the fatigue was starting to get to her. Her arms felt heavy. The dozen bruises along her body were beginning to ache. She should have let Poppa heal her, but she was worried about his own strength. He wasn't an unlimited battery; he needed time to recharge. And Jo had needed it more.

As the garage came into sight, Charlie heard a howl of rage behind her. The lights above them flickered rapidly. Demons were coming. Lots of them. The weight of their weapons bag began to drag down her shoulder. If she wanted a clean shot, she'd have to drop it.

Without speaking, they both sprinted the final leg to the garage.  Charlie began to heave the door open, while Jo's eyes watched both their backs. "Charlie," Jo whispered, "we have a problem."

Charlie was busy pushing the garage door up above her head. It felt much heavier this time around. "Really? Because I thought our problem quota was all filled up today." she muttered back. With one final push, she was able to shove the garage door up into the rafters. She sighed heavily, and turned to Jo. She didn't have to ask what the problem was. She saw it just fine herself.

The demons had figured out the girls were not in the house. As suspected, they were coming quickly after them. But from the other direction, clouds of smoke - more demons - were following closely behind what could only be described as a hoard of monsters sprinting quickly along the road.

Jo seemed to be paralyzed by the sight of so many monsters coming after them. Charlie's aching body left her too tired to feel much beyond an acceptance of how life as a Winchester worked. "Well," she muttered, "doesn't that just fucking suck."

She grabbed the bag of supplies off the ground and threw it in the trunk of the Mustang. "Time to go Jo." she grabbed her sister by the arm and pulled her into the garage, shaking Jo back into reality.

Jo looked at her sister. It felt as though all her calmness had left her. She felt like an imposter. A scared teenager in a world that she'd never really had to live in. She fought the urge to collapse into a ball of tears.

Charlie saw what was happening. She put the keys for the Mustang in her sisters hand. "You don't have to fight them Jo. We don't have to. We just need to get in the cars, and drive like hell. Okay?"

Jo nodded, vaguely understanding what her sister was saying. But she didn't move.

Charlie glanced outside; they only had a few moments left if they were going to escape without a fight. She looked back at her sister. "Jo, I want you to get in that car, and focus on driving to Poppa, okay? I know you can still feel him if you try. So you get in that car, and that's all you focus on. I will take care of everything else."

Jo nodded again, and this time moved to get into the Mustang. She seemed to be coming back to herself, because she looked back at Charlie with curiosity. "Why aren't you driving? It's your car."

Charlie grinned to herself, opening the door to the Impala. "Because I get to drive this one."

The girls drove out of the garage quickly, and sped down the streets. Charlie drove behind Jo, and shot out the window at anything that even remotely looked like it was moving towards them. The demons that had followed them from the house howled in rage as they saw the cars take off. Many were simply monsters - vampires, shifters, and other deformed creatures - and they couldn't race to keep up with the cars. Charlie watched in her rear view mirror as they quickly fell behind, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Her sister seemed to have regained a full sense of herself;  Jo was speeding up and twisting quickly through the suburbs, in an effort to both avoid and loose the second hoard that had been coming at them. Charlie followed closely behind her, trusting her sisters instincts. In a few minutes, the girls were back on the highway, speeding towards downtown, engines roaring in the silence of the empty city.

*

Dean blinked. His head was groggy. He didn't register the room around him. He could hear shouting in the distance. He blinked again, trying to reorient himself. The last thing he remembered, he had riled up an angel so badly he got clocked across the face. He shook his head to clear the fog, and felt an ache in his shoulders. Reorienting himself, he looked around. He was in an old office building; the lobby, likely, judging from the tacky marble floor and giant reception desk. His hands were tied behind his back, and he was lifted from the ground by the binding. The aching in his shoulders intensified.

Cas stirred beside him, and Dean turned his head to him. He remembered why he'd risked riling up the angel.

"The girls," he whispered, "did they get the girls?"

Cas, still groggy himself, shook his head. "I'm sure Jo heard me. And if they had captured our daughters, I suspect they would be hanging here with us."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief, and the pain flared in his shoulders. He swore, loudly, and then swore again when he saw his outburst had attracted one of their angelic guards. Trying to keep a straight face - the pain was now creeping from his shoulders into his back - Dean grimaced at the approaching angel. "What's up, buttercup?"

The angel came within inches of Dean's face, and laughed. "Oh Dean," she smiled. "You're trying very hard to make us believe you're not frightened, but you are. Soon, we'll have what we came for, and we'll finally be able to get rid of you."

Cas turned his head to the angel. He was starting to wonder why he continued to call these remaining angels his brothers and sisters. "Sam Winchester will not come."

The angel turned to face Cas, and took a threatening step towards him. She laughed again. "And what makes you think that? We had him perfectly convinced on the phone. One of our brothers has been practicing for months to get his 'Dean' voice just right. There is one thing we learned about you Winchesters, after all these years." She paused, and looked directly at Dean. "You will always die for your family."

*

The girls pulled over on the highway. They were only two exits away from the tower. The piles of abandoned cars and rubble had only increased, the closer they got to the center of the city.  Jo's driving had slowed to almost a crawl to avoid it all. Charlie had kept quiet; she could have driven faster through it, but she was always the better driver of the two.  

As they both stepped out of the cars, they could see the building, towering over them in the night's sky. They could also feel the danger. It was palpable. The girls had heard the stories their Dad had told about his experience with a hell's gate. They never believed they'd have to feel that sinking feeling themselves.

Jo shivered. In all their rush to get out to their fathers, they'd never bothered to pack jackets. She looked at Charlie. Her sister was clearly showing signs of fatigue. "So what do we do now?"

Charlie sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. She had been asking herself the same question since they'd raced out of the suburbs. Finally, she walked to the trunk of the Mustang, and lifted the lid. She pulled out her bag of fireworks, and brought it over to the backseat of the Impala. She kept her head down, not looking at her sister.

Jo watched her, curious at first, and then angry. "Are you kidding me?" She knew what her sister planned on doing. She was insane. "You're going to go and piss of a bunch of angels with _fireworks?_ "

Charlie shot her head up. "No. I'm not." She slammed the door to the Impala and walked to her sister. "I'm going to go and piss off a bunch of demons with fireworks. And then I'm going to bring the whole damn party to those angelic bastards."

Jo's jaw dropped. She took her sister by the arm. "Charlie. Stop." She looked her dead in the eyes. Despite the darkness around them, Charlie's eyes still sparkled green. "You don't need to do this by yourself."

Charlie touched her sister's hand, and held it. "I am not doing this by myself, Jo. I am doing it with you. I am trusting you. I am going to make a distraction, that's it. I am going to give you the chance to get them out of their without a fight." Charlie's eyes softened. She knew how young her sister was. She knew this trip had taken its toll on her. Hell, she'd been flung out a front window only a couple hours ago. But she was also a Winchester. She had an inner strength that she was going to need to draw on, if they were going to live to see morning.

Charlie turned away, and moved some weapons from the Mustang into the passenger seat of the Impala. She wanted to be ready for whatever might jump at her. Looking back to Jo, she gave her sister a warm smile. "Just focus on Poppa, Jo. That's what you're good at. Connecting."

Jo shook her head, and her blue eyes showed her fear was beginning to creep back. "But what if I can't get them back out?"

Charlie did her best to smile. "Jo, you forget that you're going to get _our_ fathers. They will get you out of there. You just have to help them."

Jo nodded, silently. She wasn't sure about this plan of Charlie's. She wasn't sure they should have come out here at all. Just as she was feeling desperate, she felt her Poppa reach out again. He was praying. But instead of praying to God, he was praying for Jo. He was hopeful. He knew the girls were out here for them. And he wanted to give Jo strength. As she got back behind the wheel of Charlie's Mustang, she felt rejuvenated. Poppa trusted her, and that was going to be enough.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie attempts to set a trap to draw the demons out, while Dean and Cas continue to deal with their capture by the angels.

Charlie threw the Impala in gear and spun it around. The back tires kicked up dust as she put Jo, and her precious Mustang, in the distance. She navigated the highway much faster than Jo had. Driving was more instinctual for Charlie. Speeding past the debris, her mind began to wander.

The more she allowed herself to think about it, the more chaotic this whole situation seemed to fell. If the demons had truly broken through hell into purgatory, then they had access to several army's worth of monsters. Monsters who would stop at nothing to find the hunters that put them there. But she and Jo had driven through the heart of this city; the place would be flooded with creatures, if such an army existed. Charlie knew the only explanation was that _something_ had stopped all that evil from spilling out the hell gate. What her fathers had explained - the stock piling, the planning - that was only a first wave.

Charlie veered around a particularly large pile of damaged cars and shook her head. She needed to stop fussing over these details. Monsters _not_ climbing out of hell was not her problem. Needing to understand, needing to fix. Those were the reasons the Winchesters never left the life. Charlie knew everything she cared to know; there were two giant factions of heaven and hell in the same city. All she needed to do was nudge each side until they simply dealt with each other. And Charlie could sneak her family out the back, relatively unscathed. At least that was her plan. _Fuck the Winchester legacy,_ she thought. Staying and fighting on the front line wasn't their job anymore.

Slowing the Impala to a crawl, Charlie carefully approached the end of the highway. The deep rumbling of the engine was usually a comfort to her, but in a city as dead as Detroit, it was a beacon. The equivalent of screaming out "Here I am! A hunter! Come eat me!" She chuckled at the thought; Uncle Sam loved to tell stories about times Dad had _literally_ told monsters to eat him.  

Her paranoia getting the best of her, Charlie stopped the car. The engine went silent, and she was suddenly reminded of how quiet a deserted city really was. _Not for long,_ she thought. Charlie left the keys in the ignition; if her plan worked, her survival counted on a fast getaway. Grabbing a handful of fireworks, she did her best to get out of the car quietly, and stole down the street to start setting her trap.

*

Dean could barely think; his body was racked with pain and spasms. He once again reminded himself he was getting too old for this. Still hung with his arms behind his back, he glanced over at his husband. Cas had been meditating for some time now. Dean wasn’t sure if it was to help with the pain or to keep an eye on the girls. As he continued to fight against the pain, Dean couldn't help but wonder if being married to an angel had contributed to him losing his pain tolerance. He took comfort in attributing the pain to something other than his age.

Truthfully, Dean was frightened for his daughters. But he could not let himself think that, could not let the angels see it. The angels needed to believe all four Winchesters were just as deadly to them as Dean and Sam had been, in their prime. They needed to believe the daughters of Castiel and Dean Winchester could be nothing less than terrifying. Dean hoped that fear would keep the angels away from the girls, when they discovered their presence.

Dean's first instinct had been to hide the girls. He and Cas had always hidden the girls from the angels. But it was only going to be a matter of time before the number of angels amassed here discovered the Winchesters had spawned a new generation. If Dean could make them fear the deadly nature of his daughters, perhaps he could keep the girls safe.

Slowly, Cas came out of his daze and looked to his husband. He spoke softly, out of the corner of his mouth. “We need to create a distraction.” He turned his head forward again. Dean saw the look of determination on Cas’ face. Dean didn’t understand why, but if a distraction was what his husband wanted, he was happy to oblige. He’d been hanging here long enough to be bored. Being a shit-disturber was always Dean’s specialty, anyways.

“Hey!” he shouted, as loud as his weary body could muster. Even shouting caused his body to tremble in pain. “Ass face!”

The two angels standing nearest turned, staring at their captives blankly.

Dean couldn’t help but grin. “Couldn’t figure out which one of you I was talking to, could ya?” He chuckled and flashed his best fuck-you-grin. “I guess that makes you both ass faces.”

Beside him, Castiel shouted something incoherent to the angels, and their faces quickly turned from confusion to rage. They began to stalk across the giant lobby. The rest of the angels had still not noticed the commotion; they were all still staring out the windows, unblinking.

Dean glanced at his husband. “Uh, Cas. What exactly did you just tell them?”

Cas, stone faced, continued to watch the angels. “It was Enochian. Roughly translated, I told them their children eat only the bones of animals.” Noticing Dean’s speechlessness, Cas turned to him. “I assure you, to an angel it is very insulting.”

Dean nodded, and looked back at the angels approaching them. “Yeah, yeah, I got that. They look pissed.”

Cas muttered lowly, in the tone he used whenever his husband didn’t understand him. “I told you we needed a distraction.”

*

The lights began to flicker as Charlie put the finishing touches on her second trap. It was still night, or at least very early in the morning. She had lost track of how much time had passed since she and Jo first entered the city. But the darkness meant she could still see the streetlamps far in the distance, flickering with more intensity. Those were certainly demons, and they were certainly coming her way.

Praying her plan worked, Charlie ran up the street to light her first fuse. It would take approximately two minutes before the fire would travel to the strategically placed fireworks, lighting up the sky and signalling any and all monsters to her presence. As soon as she saw the light on the fuse begin to travel, Charlie hurried back down the road to her second trap. This fuse was longer; it would burn for at least six minutes before setting the fireworks off. She hoped, between the two piles, the sky would be bright enough to attract the hoards of demons and monsters floating around the city.

Jogging back to the Impala, Charlie heard the first road of explosions and breathed a sigh of relief. The night sky behind her erupted in light and noise, as firework after firework skyrocketed into the air. Climbing into the driver's seat, she turned the key in the ignition and waited. She needed to be sure the second trap went off before she could drive away. Knowing her Winchester luck, the demons would be on her very quickly after that. The four minutes between the traps had seemed like a small amount of time while setting then. Now Charlie's knuckles were white, as she gripped the steering wheel in anticipation.

When it felt like four minutes had passed, Charlie looked back. She couldn't see the fuse. She couldn't be sure it was still going. But the sky was getting darker; the demons attracted by her first explosion were already on their way.

Sighing, Charlie grabbed her pistol and leaned her body out the car door. With her torso fully out, she could see demons were not the only thing coming. Monsters - in all types and sizes - were barrelling down the road towards her. _Well don't they look happy,_ she thought. Tightening her grip on the pistol, Charlie took careful aim at her second trap. "Come and get me boys," she muttered, squeezing the trigger. The fireworks exploded into the air, a giant ball of flame lighting up the sky.

But Charlie wasn't watching. She was already driving, speeding down the highway and praying her sister was prepared to hold up her end of this crazy plan. The thrill of the drive began to course like fire through her. Charlie flicked on the stereo. Her Dad's ACDC mix blared back at her, and she smiled. Highway to Hell seemed appropriate.  

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo and Charlie each work quickly to enact the separate components of their plan to free their fathers. Dean and Cas remain trapped behind a garrison of angels, waiting for their daughters to come to their rescue.

Jo heard the first of the fireworks erupt far in the distance. She took a small reassurance in the loud popping noises; Charlie had at least managed the drive back to the suburbs. But her sister's actions would only increase the target on her back. Pissing off demons was not an easy thing to survive.

Taking a deep breath, she remembered what Charlie had told her. _Focus on Poppa_. Stay on track. Jo needed to reach deep, for the strength she'd had earlier in the night, and find the strange calmness Poppa brought to her. She needed to be the girl who had taken control of the situation as she sensed the angels approaching.

As she came to the fork in the highway, Jo slowed the Mustang and contemplated her options. She could take the exit that would spit her out right in front of the tower, and just barrel down the highway towards the angels. Jo gripped the steering wheel to steady her hands. That road - that choice - would be something her father would do. But she and Charlie had agreed; they would not be fighting on the front lines. Instead, Jo took the exit which led to the old arena. This road was empty of debris, and she quickly left the highway behind her.

She drove carefully, to keep the engine quiet, and looked up at the tower. In a city that had been abandoned as long as Detroit, the GM building loomed high over the remaining structures. Jo tried not to look up at it too long; it was just _creepy._

She navigated through the downtown streets slowly. She planned on getting as close to the Detroit River as possible, and then looping back around the back of the GM building. In a city that had been abandoned as long as Detroit, the tower loomed high over the remaining structures. Jo tried not to look up at it too long; it was just _creepy._

The tower was an appropriate stronghold for the angels; only a small road ran between the back of the building and the Detroit river rushing behind it. Jo couldn't help but be overwhelmed with how enormous the tower was; her fathers could be anywhere in there. She and Charlie had never been to Detroit before. When they made their plan, they had simply assumed Jo would be able to sneak around back, following the river to avoid the garrison of angels stationed at the front entrance. But the girls had never counted on the river being practically at the edge of the border. They'd certainly not accounted for the sheer size of the tower itself.

Jo looked out across the fast moving water, seeing the border in the distance. Dad had once told the girls there used to be a joke that Canadians were the nicest people on the planet. Now, the entire country hid behind massive borders. The large bridge which used to span the river was destroyed - it hung over the river with a gaping hole in the centre - and the girls had overheard older hunters telling whispered horror stories of the underwater tunnel between the two countries collapsing. The girls never learned this history in school; military oversight vetted and removed most curriculum that discussed any events which happened during the regime change.

Jo's hands were starting to shake again, and she pulled the Mustang over. Gripping the steering wheel wasn't helping to steady herself. She put her head down and breathed deeply. Another firework erupted in the distance. Jo thought of Charlie, and tried to take her advice. She reached out for Poppa. She needed to know what to do; she needed his strength. And as she sat in the car, trying to breathe deeply and stem back her tears, she felt him reaching out for her. She felt his prayers, filling her chest with love, and she knew where he was.

Putting the Mustang back in gear, Jo drove up and away, away from the water and away from the tower. She would come at the building a different way; the angels standing guard would not have a chance to see her and sound the alarm. Charlie was right; they were not going to fight this war. She just had to get to her fathers. They could take care of the rest.

Taking slow, careful turns, Jo continued to glance over her shoulder as she wound through the downtown streets. Part of her had expected demons to be jumping at her left and right. Downtown would have been the ideal strategic stronghold for them. The longer Jo drove without incident, the more she began to suspect the angels had been in Detroit for longer than they had let on. They could have been waiting for the right moment, slowly flushing the demons out.

Another firework. And suddenly a pang rang through her. It nearly doubled her over in agony. Papa was in pain, and it radiated through her. But the stabbing in her abdomen passed as quickly as it came. She felt Papa reassure her through his prayers. He didn't want her to worry.

Jo knew she could no longer be a timid child. Her hands were steady as she put the Mustang into higher gear and began to whip through the streets. She could get to her fathers in minutes if she only trusted her driving.

*

Dean braced his shoulders, lifted his legs, and kicked the angel square in the jaw. The angel reeled backwards, and Dean reached out to wrap his legs around the his neck. As his weight shifted onto the angel, the relief Dean's shoulders felt was immense. He smiled to himself.

"Thanks for the ride, ya dick. It was really starting to get boring, hanging up there."

Through the large windows, Dean watched fireworks erupt in the night sky. The angels who had been standing guard, ignoring the scuffle, clearly saw them too. They flocked outside quickly, down the front steps and out of sight. The angel in Dean's grip began to thrash violently at him.

"Aw, did all your friends leave you?" Dean squeezed his thighs tighter around the angel's head and wrenched. "Do you want to talk about how that makes you _feel_?"

The angel punched upward, into Dean's thighs. Dean released his grip, swearing loudly at the pain. Agony shot through his shoulders, as they once again held the brunt of his weight. Beside him, Cas was faring equally well, being punched repeatedly in the stomach by his angel attacker.

"Remind me why we're voluntarily getting our asses kicked again, dear?" Dean shouted. He turned his body towards his husband and swung himself, kicking out at the angel attacking him. Dean caught her in the jaw, and she reeled backwards. "Hands off my husband, you angelic fucker." he growled.

Cas breathed deeply, visibly in pain. His eyes reflected a new round of fireworks lighting up the sky in front of them. Before he could answer, both angels were upon them again.

*

Charlie raced down the highway, swerving the Impala wildly. She heard a cackling noise to her right and glanced over to see a demon, running to keep up with the car. The black eyes flashed at her, and the body laughed maniacally.

"Oh fuck you," Charlie muttered. She reached over to the passenger's seat, grabbed her gun, and rolled down her window. She fired a bullet out towards the demon and it recoiled back. For good measure, she pushed the weapon further out the window and fired again.

A demon on her other side howled and screamed, attempting to bang on the window. The devil's trap flashed with each bang, and the demon yelped in pain and fell back. It was quickly replaced by another creature. Fangs flashed at the window and the werewolf growled.

One eye still on the road, Charlie dropped the pistol back onto the seat and picked up the silver knife. She held it up to the window, flashing the hilt at the growling werewolf.

"You see this you disgusting mutt? Do you want to go up against this?"

The werewolf barked viciously, banged on the window, and fell back alongside the pursuing hoard of demons. Charlie put her full attention back on the road and just barely swerved out of the way of a large abandoned SUV, turned over in the middle of the freeway. Feeling brash, she carefully picked up a small firecracker, lit it, and threw it out the still-open driver's side window.

Seeing a clear stretch of road ahead of her, Charlie leaned her head out the window to watch the firework explode directly in front of the demons. The front line of monsters shrieked in anger and fell back further. Charlie laughed loudly and pulled her head back in. _That's what you get for fucking with a Winchester, assholes,_ she thought.

Smiling, Charlie glanced up at the exit signs; she would have to take the exit that brought her closest to the front of the tower. She'd have to deliver the demons right to the front line.

A whistling noise caught her attention. And suddenly the road in front of her had exploded in a cloud of dust, debris, and fire. Charlie jerked the wheel and tried to steer around the mess. She heard another whistling, and pushed the gas pedal as far into the floor as possible. The IED hit the road just behind her and sent the Impala throttling forward.

Charlie cursed and struggled to regain control of the Impala. She hoped Jo was having an easier time.

*

Jo quietly pulled the car behind the tower. She could feel the presence of the garrison. They were far on the other side of the building; likely already watching the approaching storm of demons pursuing Charlie. She silenced the engine and snuck outside quietly, careful to make no noise as she closed the door to the Mustang. Glancing up, she saw a small pedestrian bridge connecting the tower to an old adjacent parking garage. Jo smiled; that would be the easiest way inside.

Keeping her angel blade ready, Jo scaled the parking garage uneventfully, her spirits rising until her arrival at the bridge to the tower; it had almost entirely collapsed in the centre. Staring at the gaping hole in the walkway, she heard explosions in the distance. "Awesome," she muttered. More explosions, and they were clearly not fireworks.

Sliding the angel blade into her belt loop, she slowly began to scale along the wall. Her hands found grips easily enough, but at certain points her feet dangled fully above the open air. Jo, fully aware she was several stories high, didn't trust herself to look down. Her grip was precarious enough without visualizing how far down her body would plummet if she slipped.

She swung her body the last few inches to land on the other side of the bridge, and quickly crouched down. She slowly removed her angel blade and twirled it into a comfortable position for defence.

Breathing deeply, she tried to pinpoint where in the vast building her fathers were being kept. She couldn't risk closing her eyes to focus on Poppa anymore; angels were likely patrolling the building. Keeping herself, crouched, she slowly moved forward, darting between dark corners and support pillars as she went deeper into the tower.

Just as it had before, the sense of danger flared inside her when she sensed the angel approaching. And, just as it had in the house, Jo's instincts took over. She stepped out from around the pillar and flung the angel blade with such speed that it was only after it had lodged in the angel's throat that any recognition flashed across the angel's face. Jo whipped herself back behind the pillar and covered her eyes from the flash of the angel dying. When the brightness faded, she quickly went forward and retrieved her blade. Before leaving the corpse, she paused and searched his body for his blade as well, picking it up and running off with one in both hand. _Well, they know I'm here now,_ she thought. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Jo reunites with her fathers, she begins to feel overwhelmed and turns to them to decide the Winchester's next move.

Leaving the dead angel behind her, Jo knew she would only stay alive if she trusted her instincts. Something about this place had allowed her to tap into the presence of the angels. And that kind of knowledge was valuable to a Winchester.

Forgoing thoughts of stealth, Jo began to sprint down the hallway. She was entering the main tower now; the floor she was on was no longer enclosed, but simply a walkway high above the ground. Her fathers, she sensed , were below her.

Never slowing, Jo ran to the edge of the walkway and propelled herself over, gracefully falling down a full storey to the walkway below. As she landed in a crouch, she flung both angel blades out to each side, catching two angelic patrols in their stomachs. As their grace left them, she lowered her head to avoid the blast of blinding light, and felt another pang from her Poppa. The closer she appeared to get, the stronger she felt his pain.

Racing forward and retrieving one of the blades, Jo continued down the walkway until she reached the escalator. Hearing the shouts of her fathers, she stopped and glanced at the ground floor below; if she looked carefully, she could make out movements around the corner, in what could only be the atrium facing out onto downtown.

Practically leaping down the escalator stairs, Jo rushed towards her fathers, whipping her blade into the back of one of the angels advancing on them. Just as she threw it, she felt a force grip her entire body and throw her, her body skidding away from her fathers. She heard them shout incoherently, but her head was dazed from the attack. Another angel advanced upon her, and she did her best to appear weak and small, even whimpering slightly when she knew the angel was within earshot.

"Well," the angel cooed. "What do we have here?" She reached down and ran a finger through Jo's hair.

Jo whimpered again and shook, her eyes appearing frantic. The angel leaned closer and appeared to study her.

"A Winchester? I didn't know they were still making you. Are you a pint-sized version of Sam?" The angel giggled gleefully. "Maybe _you're_ enough to bring about the end."

As the angel looked into Jo's eyes, Jo quickly reached for the angel blade she'd been frantically looking for and twisted it around, doing her best to force the tip into the angel's flesh.

 "I'm what happens when _Dean_ Winchester has a child," Jo whispered, as she pulled the angel blade out and fully plunged it into the angel's abdomen. "Bitch."

The light from the dying angel nearly blinded her, despite her eyes being closed tightly against it. She felt the life go out of her, and the angel's body went limp. Jo sat in shock for a moment, huddled against the wall. It was a different feeling; an angel's body going limp. Jo had killed a lot of monsters before, but never angels. Hearing her fathers cried out again, Jo pushed the corpse away and rushed to her fathers' aide.

While one angel had been defeated, the second was still fending off the advances of both Dean and Cas. There was too much movement between the three men for Jo to trust throwing a blade into it. Instead she vaulted herself into the fray, grabbing the angel at the shoulder and bringing the blade into his spine.

As the angel collapsed on the ground, Jo stood in front of her fathers, panting. All the adrenaline she had felt upon the first attack had vanished. In the presence of her parents, she once again felt like a child;  young and inexperienced.

Cas was the first to break the silence. He spoke quietly and evenly. "Jo. I need you to get those chairs so your Dad and I can get down from here." He gestured with his foot to some office chairs across the room. Jo absently nodded her head and ran off to get them without a word.

Cas turned to Dean and gave him a worried look. "Dean, our daughters were never meant to be involved in this."

Dean nodded in agreement. He still had a look of shock upon his face. His little girl had fought her way into an angel stronghold. She'd killed one right in front of him. "Cas." Dean's voice seemed to break.

Cas sighed, beside him. "We couldn't protect them forever, Dean."

Dean nodded, silently, as Jo ran back with the chairs. She propped each underneath one of her fathers, and carefully returned to the higher floor to cut the ropes suspending her parents. As each man was released, they let out exhaustive sighs. Dean shook his arms out dramatically, groaning.

Coming down from the chair, Dean brought his daughter into a tight hug. He brought her head into his chest and squeezed his arms around her. "You did great baby girl," he whispered, feeling her whole body collapse in relief against him. Pulling her away, he gave her the once-over, looking for injuries. Noticing the blood on her arm, Dean waved Cas over to heal and gave Jo one of his fatherly looks.

Jo shrugged and gestured at the injury with her other hand. "I had to make some angel sigils; it was the closest thing I had to paint."  She didn't argue when her Poppa put her hand over her to heal her; the warmth and love seeped through her as his hands glowed brightly.

When Jo's arm was healed, Dean glanced around to ensure they were still safely free of the angels. He looked back to Jo, worried. "Where's your sister?"

Jo pointed outside. "Did you not notice the hell she's raising out there?"

Cas nodded, talking as he moved to look over Dean's injuries. "Charlie has done an excellent job of distracting the garrison."

Dean shrugged his shoulders as his husband healed him. He was starting to feel more like his youthful self. Danger. Angels. Demons. The people he loved equally in danger. He shook his head, muttering "Just like old times."

Cas chuckled and patted his husband's shoulder. "You and I remember old times very differently." He looked between his husband and his daughter. "So what do we do now? Do we try and find the hell's gate to close it?"

Jo looked at her father incredulously. "Are you crazy?" She gestured outside. "We went through all this to get you the hell out of here, not so you could go on some suicide mission!"

Dean frowned at his daughter. "Jo, you know what we do. A few hours ago you were ready and willing to help. "

Jo shook her head violently. "No, Dad. I know what you used to do. You _used_ to run in guns blazing. You _used_ to think your life would end at the tip of a knife. Do you know what you do now? You raise a family. You watch after kids. You keep people safe." She huffed and stomped her foot in frustration. "Do you not remember anything Charlie told you?"

Tears began to run down Jo's cheeks, and she her earlier tremors began to take over. "Dad, I want to go home."

Cas and Dean exchanged looks before Cas wrapped his arms around their youngest daughter as sobs shook her body. With the presence of the angels strengthening his angelic perceptions, Cas could feel the grief and frustration of his youngest daughter. He knew how overwhelmed Jo was beginning to feel.

Dean took out his own angel blade and turned it over in his hands. He thought about the way Charlie had yelled at him earlier. He thought about the life he and his brother and his husband used to lead. He continued to twirl his blade as he thought about what leaving would mean. He knew the gate had to be nearby; the angels must have sensed it when setting up their stronghold. He knew what it would mean if the demons were to regain control of it.

Cas, still consoling Jo, looked over her head at his husband. "Dean, Charlie is coming. We need to make a decision." 

Dean nodded, his head down. There was a time where he believed that it was always his job to deal with the horrible things in the world. But there had also been a time where he understood the importance of fighting another day. He knew this fight wasn't just about him and his husband anymore.  They had come to shut the gate, not come between an all out war between heaven and hell.

Dean shook his head and twisted his blade into a defensive grip. Of course they would leave. Their family was not worth some predestined bullshit. Cas, seeing his husband's resolve, patted Jo's back and whispered gently to her. She nodded and wiped her tears, pulling out her own angel blade again.

As Jo came to face Dean again, Dean smiled at her. "You're right. Charlie is right. Now that we know what's happening, we can get the word out to the community and send in the right guys." He tapped his chest lightly. "This old man isn't coming out of retirement."

Jo laughed softly and nodded, regaining her composure. "That's good to hear. Because I still wouldn't put it past Charlie to throw us all in the trunk of her car."

Dean chuckled and kissed his daughter on the head. "I wouldn't put it past her either." He looked over at Cas. "Any sense of when we should be expecting Charlie?"

Cas chuckled and pointed out the giant windows. "You haven't seen her coming? I suspect she's directly in front of that army of hell that seems to be coming right for us."

The three of them stood watching as, almost on cue, the rumble of the Impala reached their ears. Charlie whipped around a corner, loud music blaring out the windows as she drove right past the garrison of angels and continued into the downtown core of the city. The black cloud of demons chasing behind her didn't get far; puffs of smoke began to materialize in front of the awaiting angels and battle quickly ensued.

Jo looked at her fathers. "I think that's our cue to leave. I've got Charlie's car parked right around the corner." She looked out the window and then up to the walkways above them. "Um, I came in on the third floor, but I think considering what's going on outside, we can probably just run around the outside of the building." She looked at Dean for confirmation. "Yes?"

Dean nodded, his eyes still on the streets where Charlie had disappeared. "Can you call your sister? Find out where she's meeting us?"

Jo shook her head. "She's coming around the back of the building to meet us. She's supposed to look for the Mustang." Jo rolled her eyes. "She claims her sixth sense will tell her where I parked her precious Mustang." 

Dean chuckled. That sounded like his daughter.

Jo began to lead the way out of the atrium. "Besides," she called out over her shoulder, "I'm pretty sure you still have her cell phone."

Dean and Cas exchanged puzzled looks, and suddenly comprehension damned on Dean's face. He'd grabbed Charlie's phone to make sure the angel's didn't see it. He reached deep into his pocket, confirming he still had the phone. He breathed a sigh of relief; he couldn't imagine the damage the angels could have done if they'd found that phone.

As the three hunters slipped out the glass doors and stole quickly along the side of the building, Dean and Cas exchanged looks, allowing Jo to fall slightly ahead as she led the way to the Mustang. "You know the rule," Dean said lowly.

Cas nodded. "Kill any angel that sees them."

They both took off quickly after their daughter, Dean catching up and running parallel to Jo, while Cas held up the rear, watching for any angels that might witness their escape. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they flee Detroit, Dean and Cas' worst fear is realized.

Jo led the way back to the Mustang, running as close to the curve of the building as she could. She knew how important stealth was; though could not risk distracting the angels or the demons. They were fully engaged now, and the bright lights of death flashed regularly though the air. 

As they neared the Mustang, Jo saw a figure waiting next to it. She immediately raised her gun and slowed her gait, walking carefully forwards. She felt her Dad react similarly, but as they approached the figure, Charlie's red hair became unmistakeable. Dean lowered his gun and a look of relief washed over his face. Jo, however, slowed to a walk and clicked her gun's safety off. 

"Dad..." she began. An explosion erupted in the distance, shaking the buildings around them and rattling the road under their feet. As Charlie's ears cocked towards the noise, her eyes flashed briefly in the explosion's glare. Jo tightened the grip on her pistol; this was not her sister. 

Dean, seeing the flash, raised his own weapon again. Cas jogged up beside his husband, and with a glance confirmed with a nod that all angels who had seen their escape had been dealt with. He looked back and forth in the standoff, confused. 

"What's going on?" 

Jo never lowered her weapon. "Not Charlie," she growled, keeping her eyes trained on the imposter. 

Cas continued to look between his daughter and his husband. "I don't understand, I sensed Charlie nearby." He gave a puzzled look to the imposter. "There's too many demons and angels here to pinpoint where each one is..." he trailed off, still looking directly at the into the imposter Charlie's eyes. 

Dean, however, clicked his own safety off. "Where is my daughter?" 

The imposter held her hands up in a mocking surrender, laughing in a way that sounded like Charlie but wasn't. Jo couldn't help but shiver at the eerie sound. 

The imposter giggled to herself again. "You'll never find her!" 

Jo and Dean exchanged glances. They both obviously wanted to shoot this thing on principle. It was likely a shifter, and a bullet would only sting like hell, but they were fearful of pissing it off and not finding Charlie in time to get out of this city safely. 

Without warning, the shifters head was cleaved from her body. As the head fell to the ground, Jo and her fathers stared in shock as Charlie - they presumed the real Charlie - stood behind the body as it collapsed to the ground. 

Charlie flung her long red curls back and kicked the shifter's head away violently. "Should have learned to tie better knots while you were stuck in purgatory, bitch," she muttered. 

She looked up at her family, all still clearly in shock. Neither Jo nor Dean had lowered their guns yet. Charlie dropped the machete, still dripping with the shifter's blood, and raised her hands slowly. "Hold on, hold on. Just let me get my silver knife." 

Dean shook his head, his gun still raised. With one hand he pulled out his own knife and tossed it to her. "Not a chance. I've been burned by fake silver before. Touch that one." 

Charlie rolled her eyes but bent down and picked up the blade by the tip. "See? No burning. No screaming in pain. It's me." She pocketed the knife and smiled at her father. "I'm keeping this, by the way, just for that." 

Jo lowered her gun and walked swiftly to her sister. Embracing her tightly, Jo let out a tight sob, and Charlie squeezed her younger sister in comfort. 

After a few moments, Charlie pulled Jo out from the embrace, and stroked her sister's blonde hair with one hand, grasping Jo's hand with the other. "Almost out of here, kiddo. What did I tell you? You got to them, and they got you out." The girls shared a quiet moment holding hands, before Charlie finally kissed Jo's forehead. It was their silent acknowledgement the moment had to be over. "Okay, time to go home." 

Jo nodded, breathed deeply, and steeled herself. She squeezed her sister's hand, and together they turned to their fathers. 

"Okay," Charlie nodded, her voice firm and commanding. "Let's go home. Everybody get in the cars." 

Dean and Cas exchanged looks. With a quick kiss, they separated, each following a daughter to their vehicle. Cas and Jo opened the doors of the Mustang, while Dean followed Charlie around the corner to the Impala. 

As Dean and Charlie jogged away, Charlie threw her father a smirk. "You know, I did half-expect to have to literally throw you in my trunk." 

Dean gave his daughter his best 'don't-parent' me look. "You know, Charlie, that we're running back to _my_ car, right?" 

Charlie - despite everything - laughed. A truly rich, heartfelt laugh. It was a laugh that took her out of the moment and all the chaos around her, reminding her how much she loved her family. She had to stop running and catch her breath she was laughing so hard. 

When she finally came up for air,  Dean was looking at her and smiling. He reached out, and embraced his oldest daughter tightly. Kissing the top of her head, Dean spoke softly. "Thank you, sweetie, for being brave enough to come get us." 

Charlie looked up at Dean's face and gave him a crooked grin, very reminiscent of his own. "Dad, you're welcome. But please don't _ever_ make us do this again." 

This time, it was Dean's turn to chuckle. Movements behind Charlie caught his eye, and his laugh was cut short. His instincts taking over, Dean deftly moved his daughter behind him as he drew his angel blade. 

A tall, blonde angel walked towards them, clicking her tongue. "Well, well, _Dean Winchester_. I see it's as hard as ever to keep you in a cage." 

Dean cocked his head to the side, keeping his tone casual. "Well, you know me. Can't tame this wild beast." 

The angel clucked again. "Beast. Excellent word choice." She rolled the word slowly off her tongue. "Beast. I think I even like that more than calling you a monkey." 

Dean twirled the angel blade in his hand, watching how the angel moved. "You know, I think I like telling you to fuck yourself more than telling you to eat a dick, but beggar's can't be choosers." 

The angel walked back and forth along the road, watching him. ""Oh, you're so cocky Dean. I love when hunters live up their reputations." She stopped pacing  and stood directly across from Dean. "Oh come on Dean, you didn't really think you'd escape _that_ easily, did you?"

Behind Dean, Charlie had drawn her own weapon. She shuffled on her feet, trying to will away the fatigue in her body. A thud behind them drew her attention, and as she turned she felt fear sweep into her hands. She fumbled with the angel blade, almost dropping it to the ground. "Um, Dad?" 

Dean winced as she spoke, and glanced over his shoulder. Another angel had landed in front of Charlie and was advancing towards them. He looked thicker than the female; more brutish and ready to fight. He understood the terror in his daughter; this angel had come for blood. 

Turning his head back to the female, Dean regretted the look in her eyes. All those years, keeping the girls hidden, completely down the drain. He twisted the angel blade in his grip. _Unless this bitch dies._

"Charlie," Dean growled. 

"Yes?" Her voice was tense, the fear practically gone. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet now. 

"Take him down." 

Charlie twirled her angel blade, and became very still. "Done." 

Dean smiled to himself. _That's my girl._

The male angel charged blindly at Charlie, and she easily side-stepped him, diverting him to the other side of the fray. The female angel was faster; she jumped high above Dean and Charlie and came plummeting down towards them. 

Dean and Charlie scattered as the angel landed on the concrete, hard, shattering the road around her. She looked up angrily, her hard features glaring directly at Charlie. 

The male angel had decided Dean was the greater enemy and began to charge at him. Dean did his best to absorb the hit, but was send flying away. He skidded along the pavement, and Charlie could hear him cursing in the distance. She turned to face the two angels by herself, twisting the angel blade nervously in her hand. 

The female angel held out her hand and the brutish one stayed in his tracks, huffing angrily. Charlie absently thought that she hadn't heard him say a word yet - strange, since according to her parents angels were normally so incapable of shutting up. But the female stared at Charlie intently, a small smile playing across her cold features. 

"So, _Charlie,"_ she drew out the name dramatically. "Are you really a new generation of Winchester?" She clucked her tongue gleefully. "How interesting." 

"Eat me." Charlie retorted. 

The angel rolled her eyes and flung her hand out lazily, sending her flying. Charlie skidded past her father and  felt her skin shred against the pavement. She lay there for a moment, feeling her fatigue setting in. _Come on, Charlie_ , she told herself. _Get up. Get up or you're going to die here._

Before she could pull herself up, the angel had gripped her again, and Charlie was lifted into the air. The angel righted her, and as Charlie looked onto the ground, she saw her Mustang pull around the corner. Her sister and father opened the doors quickly and rushed into the fray. From high in the air she could hear Dean's grunts as he grappled with the brutish angel. 

"Let's try this again, _Charlie._ " The angel pierced her with bright blue, angelic eyes, bringing Charlie's focus back. "Tell me about you." 

Charlie, still struggling against the angelic hold, rolled her eyes. "My name is Charlie. I'm 18, I study at Kansas State, and in my free time I like taking a sawed-off to the gun range." She paused, and nodded over at the other struggle. "Oh, and I think my Dad is about to kill your idiot friend." 

The female angel turned her head to Dean, her long blonde hair flying loosely around her. Dean had the male angel in a strong headlock, an angel blade to his chin. Cas and Jo stood firmly behind him, both their angel blades drawn in offensive positions. 

"Let go of her, before I kill him, and then you." 

The angel clucked to herself again. "Dean Winchester, you have threatened to kill so many people over the years I wonder if your to-do list is not a little too full for me now." 

Dean, never blinking, drove the angel blade into the base of the male angel's skull. Charlie closed her eyes as the bright blue light flashed across the open road. When she opened them again, her fathers were advancing on the female angel. Cas had assumed his commanding presence, and Dean's jaw was set. 

Before they could attack, the female threw her head back and released her grace into the air. Charlie dropped to the ground, hard, as she watched the angel leave her vessel. Dean cursed loudly, and checked the woman's pulse. 

Jo rushed to Charlie's side and helped pull her up off the ground. She checked her sister over, ensuring nothing had been broken in the fall. As both girls looked to their fathers, Dean shook his head. The angel's vessel, no doubt, had been lost a long time ago. 

Dean gestured to his husband, and they walked back to the Impala, talking low but gesturing broadly. 

Charlie continued to brush herself off. "I don't know why they're so upset. We all got out just fine." 

Jo looked worriedly at her sister. "Charlie, they didn't want the angels to know we were here." 

Charlie threw her sisters a puzzled look. "Um, Jo, in case you didn't notice, they kind of kidnapped Dad and Poppa. Pretty sure they knew we were here." 

Jo shook her head. "No Charlie. That's why we hid when we were in the safe house. They didn't want the angels to know about _us._ "

Charlie frowned, and turned back around. Their fathers seemed to have come to some sort of agreement. She gestured at Jo and the girls walked quickly back to the cars. 

"Dad, we need to get going. I didn't race through the highway of hell with all of hell on my ass just so we could die here." 

Dean threw her a sharp look. "I know, Charlie. You don't need to keep reminding me." 

Jo opened the driver's door of the Mustang. "She's right though. That distraction isn't going to last forever. We need to leave." 

Dean muttered something to himself about being parented by his daughters and opened the trunk of the Mustang, rummaging through the girls' provisions. 

Charlie sighed deeply. "Please tell me you're not planning on burning this whole place to the ground just because _one_ angel got away." 

"Aha!" Dean pulled his head out and threw his daughter a sour look. "Trust me, that was my first idea." He held up the jug of holy oil. "But your Poppa thought this might make for a better plan." 

"Whatever it is you're planning, can you do it while we drive the fuck out of here?" 

Dean nodded absently, looking into the bottle to gauge the provision. Charlie threw up her hands. 

"Finally!" She climbed back into the driver's seat of the Impala and slammed the door, grinning slightly to herself as she watched the reflection of Dean's wince in the rear view mirror.  He climbed quickly into the backseat, rolling down both windows and readying his gun. "We're taking flank." 

Charlie nodded, putting the car in gear. She waited for Jo to pull out in front of her and followed closely behind. As the Mustang gained speed, Cas leaned out the back window, dripping a small amount of holy oil on the ground as they drove. 

Charlie turned around to her Dad. "Really? That was the plan you guys came up with? Ring of holy fire that'll burn out as soon as it rains?" 

Dean gave his daughter another firm parenting stare. "Charlie, if you don't put your eyes back on the road and keep yourself from _denting my car_ , so help me I will go back and burn this whole place to the ground just to teach you a lesson." 

Charlie laughed and turned back to the road. Jo was driving carefully; slow enough that the oil would drip in a solid line on the road, but fast enough that they would soon be out of the fray. Driving two blocks deep into downtown, their small convoy carefully navigated around the still-battling fray of angels and demons. As they passed each intersection, a blurry image of war flashed in their windows. Charlie gripped the steering wheel tighter; she wanted to be out of this hellish city. 

Dean kept his gun hand loose and shot at any monster that ventured too close to the cars. But the drive was uneventful; Charlie's distraction had worked. All the angels and demons were too caught up in attacking each other to pay much attention to the fleeing Winchesters. 

As they reached the I-96, each car pulled over loudly. The cars idled, rumbling deeply, and Cas got out of the Mustang, trailing the last of the oil to the edge of the road. He held the empty bottle of holy oil and looked down at it sadly. Dean walked over to his husband and slipped his hand into Cas'. They both stood and looked out towards the tower. Between the collapsed buildings of downtown Detroit, they could still make out the raging battle. Explosions echoed in the distance, and Cas sighed deeply. 

"You know, Dean, there was a time when we would be in the middle of that fray." 

Dean chuckled softly. "You know, Cas, about a half an hour ago we basically were." 

Cas turned to his husband, the empty bottle of oil still hanging loosely in his hand. "Are we doing the right thing Dean?" 

Dean nodded and stroked his husband's hair gently. "Of course we are. The girls were right. We don't lead the charge anymore. We're like generals; we co-ordinate the attack instead." He pulled out his cell and waved it with a goofy smile. "So let's get general-ing." 

Charlie stuck her head out the driver's window and yelled at her fathers. "Hey! You guys know that plan of yours only works if you actually _light_ the oil, right?" As her fathers angrily waved her off, Charlie pulled her head back in, muttering. "You'd think they were posing for a damn romance novel." 

Dean pulled out a pack of matches, lighting one and dropping it on the holy oil. He and Cas watched the flames travel along the road and out of sight, slowly encircling the battleground. The world was safe, for now. It was time to send their own army in.  

Dean waved the cell phone at Cas again, walking back to the cars. "You start calling the ladies, and I'll call the guys." He chuckled, thinking about it. "I bet Donna and her girls would just _love_ this." 


	13. Epilogue

As they drove away, the skyline of Detroit slowly fading into the distance, Dean turned around in the backseat of the Impala. Charlie glanced back at him quickly. "Whatcha' thinking Dad?" 

Dean shook his head and turned back to his daughter. "Just thinking about something someone told me, a long time ago." He frowned, his forehead wrinkling with thought. 

Charlie glanced up at the Mustang in front of them. She could see Jo's blonde hair shining in the early morning sun. Poppa was asleep in the back seat, his face barely visible. Some part of her, still tense from the night, began to relax. 

"Dad," she glanced back at him again and smiled. "Do you ever think, maybe what he really meant, was that you would always come back for your family?" She looked back at the road. "And they would always come back for you." 

Dean chuckled to himself in the backseat. "I never thought of it that way." He yawned widely, stretching and  settling himself into the backseat. "Wake me up when we get home." 

Charlie nodded and turned the stereo on. Dean smiled; she'd left his favourite CD in. He opened one eye and watched his daughter, pride swelling within him. 

"And Charlie?" 

She smiled. "Yes Dad?" 

"Seriously. Don't scratch my car." 

*

Charlie put the Impala in park in front of the bunker. She and Jo had driven without stopping. They hadn't even discussed it beforehand; both girls just desperately wanted to be home. Taking the keys out of the car, the rumbling stopped and Dean jerked awake in the back seat. 

Dean quickly climbed out of the car, rushing to the bunker. Before he could reach it, the door flung open and people began to pour out to greet them. Maddie raced around, barking excitedly as Charlie, Jo and Cas all approached. The kids swarmed around them, hugging and all talking excitedly. 

Sam stood firmly in the doorway, his arms crossed, frowning at his brother. Dean took several strong strides toward him and embraced his brother in a tight hug. Sam's frown cracked slightly, feeling the weight of his brother against him. 

"Dean, you should have called me!" 

Cas watched from the distance as his husband broke his hug, and looked at his brother sadly. Cas' arm wrapped around Jo's shoulder, keeping her close. 

"Sam, I couldn't. I'll explain everything later. Just -" Dean's voice cracked. His body ached with fatigue. "Sam, thank you. For taking care of my family." 

The brother's embraced again. The anger was erased from Sam's face. He gripped Dean tightly, doing his best to reassure his older brother. 

"Of course man. Always. You know that. Don't worry. You're home now." 


End file.
